Witch of the Cards
by Stella Wind
Summary: Believing Hermione is focusing too hard on her independent study of war magic, her parents interest her in a game, not knowing that 'Duel Monsters' contained even deeper and darker magic for her to become entangled in.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Witch of the CardsRating: PG-13Summary: Believing Hermione focusing to hard on her independent study of war magic, her parents interest her in a game, not knowing that "Duel Monsters" contained even deeper and darker magic.  
** Pairings:** (Will not be a romance-centric) Hr/Seto, Yugi/Anzu Jounochi/Mai  
** Warnings: **The British wizarding world will be... for lack of better term, lightly bashed.  
** Spoilers**: Order of the Phoenix (and all books before), Battle City Arc (and all arcs before)  
** Timeframe**: Summer after OotP, after Battle City Arc  
** Disclaimer:** The characters of Yu-Gi-Oh and Harry Potter are not mine and belong to their respective creators. 

**Beta:** The wonderful, and magnificent Oralindie! (bows)

**A/N:** Yes... I really should be working on WotM (actually, what I really should be working on is my paper). But this popped into my head and refused to go away. I wanted to try something different. Don't worry, this is going to come out to be about 10 chapters.

Anzu -Téa

Jounochi -Joey

Honda -Tristan

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Chapter One: Magic and Muggles

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Hermione, you need to take a break," her mother said with out preamble as she strode into the den.

Hermione's confused eyes flicked up to her mother before turning back to the yellowed page of a spell book. "Why?" she asked, her voice barely perceptible over the scratch of her pen.

She heard a soft sigh and a rustle as her mother sat down. "Hermione..." Her mother said, waiting for her to acknowledge her name.

"Mh?" She flipped a page and began to sketch the design for Flinnette's Ward.

"How many books have you read this week?" The voice was light, but the importance of the question lay bare.

Hermione shrugged, tucking her feet under herself. "I don't know, can't even give an accurate account; do you mean just looked at for a section or two, or all the way through?"

"I mean for fun, pumpkin."

She froze for a second before closing the book. It looked like her mother was going to force the issue.

Tension had been building in the Granger household. In the week after the Department of Mysteries battle, Hermione's mind had been in a whirl. It had seemed impossible that she had actually fought Death Eaters, even when she had the injuries to prove it. She had even more trouble with the fact that there really was a dark lord, thinking it was almost silly until she dwelled on Sirius' death. A dark lord had seemed so... unrealistic to her. So, as with any of her confusion, she turned to books. From the substantial library at Hogwarts, she read history books, her mind absorbing the information and she was once again struck by the sheer distance of the wizarding world from the muggle.

Harry never really seemed to notice it, but Hermione was not stupid and could tell that his home-life at one time was far from idyllic. She also knew that an attempt to talk to Dumbledore would fail, from repeated experience. Ron took the casual talk of life under the cupboard and constant chores as normal for the magic-less muggles.

In the rest of the world (the wizarding world after all was not even one percentage of the entire population), power was first taken by politics; once a base was built up, then came war. Oh, Hermione supposed, you could argue that it was done the same way wizarding world. Voldemort had collected a group of pure-bloods that shared his ideal, but such a small group of what Hermione estimated to be under a two thousand to cause such terror and to even have the possibility to conquer a country seemed ridiculous. Until she realized that causing the pandemonium was a tacit of terrorist group. She began to read a few recently published muggle books on the Middle Eastern and Basque groups.

Almost instantly her comprehension of Voldemort's tactics grew. It wasn't what he was doing, but what he was not doing. The various ways that he could cause mass chaos were almost infinite with the addition of magic.

With that in mind, she had an epiphany that had been niggling on the edge of her brain since she was awakened from her petrified state in her first year.

The wizarding world was stagnant.

At least it had a slight democracy, but family was still very important and defining. There where about thirty families that typical where Ministers, Department Heads, and Members of the Wizengamont. There were exception and Hermione knew that if she wanted to, she could become on of them, especially being one of the best friends of the "Boy-Who-Lived".

But she was the Harry's friend first and foremost, and getting him though the remaining two years at Hogwarts came before almost all else. Thus, she studied. Read Sun-Tsu and made battle plans, incorporating magic. She begged her parents for rides to the Library in Diagon Alley. She flirted with the some of male librarians and gained access to their equivalent of the Restricted Section.

Surprisingly, her parents had agreed with her, telling her she had ceased to be truly a child when at twelve, she, Ron, and Harry had done something that many a full grown wizard would not have done, and unraveled a series of tests in quest to keep Voldemort away from the Stone. They then went on to say that she was not an adult yet either, and would always be their daughter. She had smiled and hugged them.

Now though, a over a month later, they had begun to comment on her determination and single-minded focus on her studies.

She didn't think that her mother would accept Quincy Wright's A Study of War as an answer, no matter how stimulating she had found it to be. "None."

Beside her mother was a plastic bag that rustled as she lifted it into her lap. "I thought so. Remember when you used to read at least three books everyday? And still did the schoolwork for over the summer within a month?"

"Yes," Hermione held up a hand to forestall her mother, "But that was before I felt like I was living in one."

"You still read them last summer," she sighed softly, and smiled, her crows feet around her eyes wrinkling.

"Mum..."

"Pumpkin, you'll be of no good to anyone if you have a nervous breakdown. You need to take a break."

Hermione bit her lip. "I suppose we can rent some movies." She could finish the set of spells later that night.

"No," her mother said harsh and quickly.

Hermione blinked, her mind only registering shock and then a rush of adrenaline.

"No, it needs to be longer then that."

"Mum, it can't be longer then a week," Hermione said, gambling that by taking a week off, she would escape having to take two weeks off or more.

"When you were younger, you used to be addicted to games. I remember the three of us playing Risk for almost a month, battling it out."

Hermione smiled briefly; she had been so imperious then, doing her own math for troops after her father had accidentally fudged the numbers. It had lasted over month, now that she thought of it. They'd started Valentine's Day because she hadn't gotten any "really cute cards" and gone on past an early Easter; she remembered carefully transporting the board and the pieces to her desk to free up the card table to add onto the dinning table for the relatives.

"You also became obsessed with Magic: The Gathering, that card collecting game. I think you spent well over a hundred pounds on it."

Another half buried memory surfaced, and she thought back to when she used to have recess. She had watched the older (and automatically cooler) kids playing it, hiding behind a tree, half- reading a book, eyes sneaking glances. Then one day, one of the boys had forgotten his deck. She had gone over after it became apparent that he wasn't going to remember it, and had carefully picked it up and brushed the dirt away. Binding it with a hair elastic she had stowed it one of her pockets before distractedly waiting till three. She remembered that she had been called up to the board to do a math problem and her utter shame at completely messing up a long division problem. She had nearly gone home in tears over it. The next recess, she had waited nervously, wondering if it would just be better for her to just leave the deck, and sit in her normal spot. When the group had approached, she waved shyly, and returned Matthew (yes, that was his name) his deck. She had scuffed a foot in the dust when thanked extravagantly in increasingly a Shakespearean speech until one of the other boys asked if she'd like to learn how to play.

Once she had discovered books on the game, she had blossomed and routinely began to beat them. For almost a year and half, she had been a serious player... until her Hogwarts letter had come. She had put away her deck, and taken to the study of real magic with a vengeance. She vowed not to mention ever playing the game at Hogwarts, figuring most students wouldn't even know what it was; she also knew almost instantly that systems were entirely different, and feared being laughed at and ridiculed for knowing what she thought of as "fake magic" so well.

"There's this one game, it's very popular now, called "Duel Monsters." The bag rustled as her mother pulled out two dozen foil wrapped booster packs, as well as a glossy book. "It's Japanese, but has serious players all around the world. I think a good deal of it's popularity lies in the fact that it uses holograms."

"Holo--" Hermione breathed softly. Impossible, surely she would have heard... She really had been enthralled by her studies. Holograms! The idea had been around for fifty years or so, and there were holographic display but to think that it would be readily available...

"Yes, holograms." Her mother smiled indulgently, eyes glittering. "Honest to Star Trek like holograms. If you get serious about the game, your father and I read about how to by a projector disk thing. Think about it."

It wasn't holograms... it was volumetric display then... The possibilities! With that her imagination ignited, and with intellectual ferocity not seen since she learned of the existence of magic, she began to image, to hope, to dream... and to believe.

Hermione barely felt the book and note book be replaced with another more modern book and sliding packs. She tore open the packs, eyes slipping over the cards, she smiled dreamily, and began to absently set aside the cards that seemed to resonate with her.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Post A/N  
Hermione's birthday is September 19.

Review?


	2. Chapter 2

Once more beta-read by the lovely Oralindie!

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Chapter Two: Possibility

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Hermione stretched slightly as she finished sorting the cards she had just been given. She felt her neck pop and winced at the tension in her back before sliding onto the floor and yawning luxuriously. She felt she that she should probably look at the book her mother had given her as well, but flipping thought the cards she had half a notion of how to play. The game play didn't seem anywhere as complex as Magic: The Gathering, but it presented more opportunities for change and last-minute victories.

Also it had _holograms_, a definitely interesting factor. After all... holograms...

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"I think she's having a rapture," Emilia Granger whispered to her husband, Jonathan.

"Really? Did she discover she could get owled books from the library?" he asked, exchanging newspaper sections.

Emilia snorted, and shook her head. "No, I think it was the idea of holograms."

The newspaper he was reading was set aside, and he smiled at her, "She always did have a fancy for technology," Jonathan said fondly. "I suppose you're about to tell me to start checking prices on the holographic projectors?"

"No, not yet, but I think I can convince her to go shopping with me tomorrow... She's really does need some new clothes; I think that shirt she's wearing she got the year she started Hogwarts. I should probably get her a cellphone, too."

Jonathan nodded, Hermione had barely bought anything that wasn't wizarding in almost three years; it was long past time for her to have a shopping spree. "Want to take my car?"

Emilia smiled. Jon had bought the car less then a month after they had found out that their daughter was not just a witch, but going away to a boarding school as well. He called it his "mid-life crisis car" and she agreed. It was a fast red convertible that cost just a touch too much.

"Sure, we might as well do this in style."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hermione flipped past the chapter on international duelists, pausing only briefly to look at the British champion. Flipping to next section she saw with disgust that it was a list of tournaments, and winners. Hurriedly she flipped though the rest of the book and was appalled to see that it had little more on game itself then the common set of rules and well as a list of basic deviations.

It was simple ridiculous the amount of ways it could be played, in most of the more recent versions, a monster was sacrificed to summon another, stronger one. It was there that any similarities ended. Some versions (national and international level) had an ante of a card, some didn't. The number of life points differed drastically, ranging from two thousand to eight thousand. There was, however, a version that only had one thousand life points, but was primarily played in Sydney, Australia and had not caught on in the rest of the world. The version typical played in England was a fairly simple using four thousand life points, one monster summon a turn, with sacrifices.

It was, nonetheless, blatantly obvious that any truly competent player had at least an extra fifty or so cards to adapt to any situation. She did find it rather odd that almost no major players had multiple decks.

No matter how much she tried to categorize it, it was completely at odds with almost every other CCG she had every played. The half hints on strategies found in the book made her pause, and look back to her cards. After flipping though the cards further, she decide she need at least another dozen booster packs to solidify the theme of the deck. She should probably pick up some card protectors, as well as a binder or two for the rejected cards. Maybe a deck carrier too...

After being told of the impromptu (to her at least) shopping trip, Hermione tried not to bounce too hard, and had trouble finishing the theoretical combination of Nillian's Shield and the Icarus Curse. She rubbed at her eyes, weariness overtaking her, but she had been working on this particular combination for almost three weeks now, going of on tangents that had slowly led to the completion... if she could just finish it, it would be the seventh such untried spell she had created. She hoped to have a dozen or so by the time she returned to Hogwarts.

It was, after all, the least she could do for Harry and Ron... Slowly, her grip on the pen relaxed, and as it slid out of limp fingers she began to dream.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

She had very strange dreams, she reflected the next morning, years of practice allowing her to eat almost automatically as she figured the arithmancy problems at breakfast. Dragons, wizards, and moving crates had seemed to dominate the dream, and as near as she could figure, she was trying to build a staircase out of the crates so she could leap from above and take the wizard by surprise. She wasn't entirely sure where the dragons came in nor why she, a nymph, and two elves had been playing poker with a tarot deck with at least four Death cards in it and she wasn't even sure if she wanted to know.

She watched her mom finish an omelet and tried not to mess up her calculation, even though she probably already had the answer. Once more, Hermione was drawn into the complex arithmancy of merging the two spells. She finished checking her first set of calculations as her mother dumped her empty plate into the sink.

Hermione quickly swept up her papers, and straightened them into a pile before sliding them into the arithmancy textbook to keep her place. Shoving her feet into her sandals and yanking a comb though snarled hair, she ran up to her room searching for her ever elusive purse. Shoving the books under her desk aside with one hand, she darted below. Hands batting away crumpled paper and parchment, she found the strap and pulled. Banging her head on the other side of the desk, she breathed out a word she had picked up from being around Ron day in and day out. Slinging the strap over a shoulder, she grabbed her porto deck and slipped them into one of the side pockets. Once more combing her hair, she scampered down the stairs. A few seconds later the door slammed closed and the garage door opened as a car back out of the driveway.

The day was thankfully sunny, and Hermione was grinning slightly as her mother grumbled about traffic. She wrinkled her noise at the smell of petrol, but continued to watch the city roll past her eyes. Letting herself go, she wondered what it would be like to be a normal muggle teenager. Well, just a muggle teenager. She might be on her way to see a movie or going to a book-club. She frowned as other possibilities came to mind, finding only a few appealing.

The shopping had been, _informative_ Hermione would later say when asked, but when during that seemingly infinite time her mother dragged her from store to store, she believed it to be a minor hell. Give her Death Eaters trying to kill her any day! Dragon smuggling, dentition, anything but accursed shopping. Time spent standing in queues ticked by, and clueless shop-assistances. It was past four when they finally managed to buy what her mother had deemed necessary. More little technological gadgets then what Hermione knew what to do with (or how to use for that matter) two new pairs of shoes, and a few new outfits her mother had insisted she buy. Hermione felt lucky that she had managed to escape anything more.

A constant mantra had run though Hermione's mind as she endured. Half formed theories and ideas for combos also flowed though her mind as she waited. She had managed not to hex a clueless saleswoman more then once by thing of the deck resting within her purse.

Taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes, she pushed open the door.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hermione did not look at her mother as the cashier rang up her bill, busying herself with the bags. As her mother wrote the check, she ran her eyes over the small display on the counter of advertisements, and offers.

One flyer caught her eye, with the Duel Monster logo. Before she could examining it further the slight murmuring of her mother and the cashier ended, and Hermione was handed the receipt by her mother.

She grabbed on of the fliers, and crumpled it into the bag, vowing to look at it later.

She should probably look at the receipt as well...

Hermione's reluctance was well found she discovered as she upended the bag on her bed in search of the receipt.

She had spent well over a hundred pounds in the game store.

Tearing the excess packaging off one of the popular Duel Monsters magazine, she wonder if it was worth it.

But by simply flipping though the magazine and looking at the pictures, she thought it was.

Moving pictures were very interesting and the like, but the spirit that was captured by them was often lost by their antics. Just looking at the pictures of two sweating duelist, she smiled, before deviling into the details continuing her crash course into Duel Monsters.

The rest of her week was spent as she attempted to find a balance between her new obsession and her own research.

At night she often chided herself for spending so much time concentrating on the cards, some stupid, infantile card game with ridiculous laws and rules, rather then the much more deadly, and important strategies that she was trying to devise.

This often led to at least half an hour of inner (and not so inner as she became frustrated with herself) debate. Weighing the pros and cons almost became a ritual, and was sure that if anyone heard her she would be committed to an asylum.

In the end, she continued to create a deck, tempering it, and reading the magazines she had purchased.

And, at least once, usually twice a day, she took the flier she had grabbed from the game shop and smoothed it carefully out.

In faded ink, probably from the last set printed before the ink cartridge was changed, was printed a tournament announcement. It was only for a local tournament, but the winner would go on to another tournament for a chance to become one of the UK's two champions, and go for the world title.

It would be completely impossible for her to even get past the local tournament, let alone the nationals.

However, this did nothing to stem the daydreams she had. After all, hadn't she thought nearly everything else in her life impossible as well?

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

By the way, I now have a LJ. To bug me, go to: http/ste llawin d.livejo m/ (remove the spaces).


	3. Chapter 3

A/N:

This is sadly **not** beta-read by the lovely Oralindie, due to RL problems. The proofreading was done by moi. I apologize in advance for it.

While I'm on that topic. Yeah, I know. I started_ another _fic. And this one isn't even a crossover with HP like WotM. Sorry.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Chapter Three: Asking

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Hermione paused for a moment and the furious scratching of her quill ceased, leaving the room silent. She faintly heard car doors slam. Closing her eyes, she attempted to return to her earlier state of mind. The spell she checked over had numerous flaws in it she knew, having already checked the equations for the magical flow movement and finding at least two negative points. However, every time she did the Arithmancy, she found a different reason.

Once again her concentration was shot as she heard a car slowing. A rumble signaled the garage door opening and she bolted out of her room like a cat faced with a bath. Coming down the stairs, she wrung her hands, and dashed back up to her room for the flier for the regional duelist tournament.

"We're home!"

She smiled at her dad, coming into the living room, and rolled an edge of the paper between her fingers, behind her back. She bit her lip.

"How was your day, Hermione?"

She shrugged and unconsciously smoothed the paper. "Fine. Yours?

"Fine," he offered smiling. "What do you have there?"

"Oh this?" She held it with feigned disinterest, careful to not let him see it too closely. "Just something I'm thinking about doing this weekend.

"Really now? And many books are you planning to buy there then?" He held a hand protective over the pocket with his wallet.

"Dad! Not everything I do revolves around books," she protested.

He favored her with a amused disbelieving glance.

"It's just this game thing. I was thinking about going. I can walk to the bus stop and go there." She fidgeted. It was just a game, nothing important. There was no reason to become worked up over it.

Her father began to flip through a magazine. "Sure, sounds fine with me."

She stared at him for a long moment not quite daring to believe her fortune. "Thanks," she faintly choked out. That was what she had been so nervous over? She went back to her room to organize her deck.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The weekend had been something of a let down to put it mildly. She had woken at six, and had nervously messed with her deck, finding new combinations as she occasionally glanced guiltily at the pile of Arithmancy papers scattered over her desk and the magical abacus lying on top, her last calculation still not finished. At some point her mother called for her, telling her it was breakfast. At this point she realized she hadn't de-tangled her hair, let alone gotten dressed. The mad rush that followed to get out the door in time was a chaotic blur.

Two others showed up to the regional tournament.

One was a twelve year old who had apparently just learned how to play from his cousin. He was gangly, his clothes almost too small for him. Hermione guessed he had just gone through a growth spurt. His play was amateur at best.

The other was a kid, who was barely past her waist but eager and very knowledgeable of the rules and of his deck. However, it was almost no contest once it appeared she had the upper hand. He had quietly began to make careless mistakes and he looked at her like she had just bought the last candy bar. She winced as she set one of her monsters to wipe out his life points.

"It was a good game," she offered as she swept her deck off the mat and into it's holder. "One of my more difficult duels, to tell the truth."

"Really?" he asked miserably.

"Yes, I swear." She had swept him a curtsy despite having warn pants.

The dawning hope on his face made her glad that she hadn't told him that it was her second official duel. Then he giggled and bowed.

The woman running the tournament gave her a sheaf of papers as she looked over her deck, mentally forming a list of cards that had to go. She'd managed to over-whelm her deck again with to many magic cards.

"These are the registration forms for the UK National Duelist Tournament. You should fill most of them out now as they're rather confusing."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The woman had been right. It was nine incomprehensible pages long, requiring multiple readings of many sentences and in a few cases a dictionary. She knew almost everything it asked her such as the more mundane home address and phone. But some of it became more esoteric, such as if she was vegan or not, or wether she had any religious obligations during the tournament, or the international finals, if she made it that far.

She was gratefully that it didn't ask for a school name.

It's was starting to get late when she handed the paperwork back to the woman.

"You should get the hotel reservations and tickets for the train in under a week by post," she said as she locked up the room.

Her parent's were ecstatic to hear that she had won, even with her protests of not even having a proper opponent to duel.

However, Hermione thought it was a mixed blessing at best. She was now dividing her attention between her research and her deck. She so desperately wanted to win, and while her regionals had been under-attended, Duel Monsters where one of the biggest trends in Ireland which would be send about a dozen entrants to the competition.

Receiving the the official looking letter, it finally hit her.

This game had captured her spirit and imagination and was not letting it go.

Hogwarts and the magical world were no longer enough. She couldn't find it in herself to cry or feel gladness. The only sound in her room that night was the harsh snap of paper being turned over and the click of her abacus. The cards that her idle hand filpped over fell silently.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

When Yugi had weary of the constant stream of letters arriving --invitations to tournaments or interview request-- he had made an announcement: he was going to participate in tournaments _he_ wished to and rest assured, there was _no_ need to relentlessly invite him to _every_ last one. Despite this, not a week went by without yet another letter beseeching his presence. He hadn't thought much of it when after a quick consultation with Yami when he began to type what was almost becoming a form refusal letter to one of the latest world-wide competitions.

That had been before Kaiba had come pounding at his back door.

Yugi had started when he heard Kaiba calling his name, and was half way to the door before it began to shake with the impact of what could only be Kaiba hitting it. Yugi opened the door as quickly as he could hearing the stain of the wood, and was nearly knocked over by a briefcase.

Kaiba swept in, barely looking at him, and slammed the door shut with a quick about turn.

"Kaiba-kun?"

"Yugi... I need a you to do something for me." The words were in Kaiba's normal terse tone, but the pauses between words and the slight twitching of his eyebrows indicated nothing was normal.

Yuugi nodded, not willing to commit absolutely before knowing the terms, but willing to try.

"Enter the Global Tournament."

Yami swapped places with Yuugi, quickly. "If you wish, we may duel now."

"Mokuba's been kidnapped." Kaiba ground out through clenched teeth. His hands formed into fists and he began to pace in intent rage.

"And the kidnapper...?"

"Demands that I participate in the tournament. I will supposedly receive further instructions at the at the final level," Kaiba hissed.

"Was one of the other demands for me to d--"

_Don't._

_Aibou?_

_Don't ask him. He would have said so if it was. He's asking for help. It might sound like a demand, but he wants back-up._

"We'll duel."

It may have been a sign of Kaiba's turmoil that he didn't even give him a second glance at the plural pronoun.

"Fine. As you're a high-level duelist, the preliminary rounds are not necessary. The tournament will be held in Tokyo in a two weeks," Kaiba said as he pulled an envelope from his trench-coat. "Here's reservations for the hotel room your groupies will need. You'll be in the duelist block."

_He's paying for them to come, other me. He's very serious. As much as he dislikes them, he is willing to tolerate them. _

"I''ll inform you if the situation changes." Kaiba swept from the house.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Yuugi met Jounochi that evening at the arcade. He didn't say anything as he led Jounochi over to a fighting game. It took several more rounds, before he began.

"Do you get an invitation to the Global Tournament?" he asked as he furiously jerked the joystick in a dodge maneuverer.

"Yeah?" Jounochi began to once more try to rain down blows on Yuugi's avatar.

"Take it."

"What?" Jounochi asked pulling himself out of the game, and staring at Yami.

Jounochi blinked, before taking the soul change in-stride.

"Mokuba's been kidnapped," Yami informed him as he ended the game.

"Again? Kaiba needs better bodyguards. I'm not bringing Shizuka." Jounochi accepted.

"Probably a good idea. "

It wasn't a secret that Seto Kaiba would do anything for his brother. And that he would do everything to protect him. Though Mokuba had bodyguards as well as the guards on the mansion grounds, there weren't many due to both of the Kaiba brothers independence. Thus, Mokuba begin almost kidnapped several times, should have been more then enough to convince Kaiba. But to hire more guards would be admitting a weakness, so he hadn't, being the son of a gun he was. At least that what Jounochi had theorized one day, ranting about Kaiba and his latest duel.

"That kid needs self defense lessons. Hell, I'll even teach him when we get him." Jounochi settled into a pensive silence, not willing to think about the ifs. "When is the Tournament?"

"Ahh, two weeks from Friday," Yami answered calmly.

"Mmm." Jounochi slouched against the console. "Any requirements?"

"We're both high enough levels of duelist to go straight in the roving challenge stage without going through the preliminaries."

That was probably the result of having competed in Battle City. Or getting into the finals of both it and Duelist Kingdom. Either way it was a very good thing; the first round had already come and gone.

"Two weeks?" Jounochi said somberly. "Kaiba is going to kill someone."

Yami did not disagree.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOo


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Chapter Four: Climbing to Hope

* * *

The hum and thrum of King's Cross surrounded Hermione, and the crowd engulfed her the moment she stepped off the train. Around her, businessmen rushed, families yelled, and tourists got lost. Ducking over to the wall, she fumbled a paper out of her pocket.

One hand carefully smoothing the creased paper, she checked the time chart again. She had over thirty minutes until the next shuttle to the hotel.

Slumping against the wall, she balled the paper up and stuffed it back into her pocket. The overnight bag slung over her shoulder was lighter then she had expected it to be, until she realized that she only had four books. One of which she had finished on the train ride, before she had begun flip the cards, memorizing every detail on them.

Her hand ghosted over her back pocket, checking for the slim deck case.

_Two days. _Two days if she lasted into the semi-finals. Two days of playing a card game and looking at what she might have been. She doubted she would find herself longing for life without magic. But a change would be nice.

Who knows, she might hear You-Know-Who without the moniker referring to a half-mad wizard.

She doubted it.

Checking her watch again, she left the wall, and struggled to where the shuttle would arrive. Might as well wait were she could see it.

* * *

The hotel was more then she had ever thought it would be. Looking around, she ignored the chandeliers and sweeping staircases, well used to such ostentation from Hogwarts. No, what she stared at, entranced by were the flat screen TVs, and the bank of self-check-in computers. Technology.

Hermione checked in, showing her papers, and received a pamphlet for the duel. Her room was on the eighth floor, and the stairs proved quicker then the backed up elevators.

The room was a decent sized single, with an electronic key card. Throwing her stuff onto the bed, she ducked into the bathroom briefly. The ice bucket took a moment longer to find, as did the ice machine itself, but old habits died hard, and she fetched the ice before settling down to read the pamphlet with a glass of water at hand.

The opening ceremony for the regional tournament would be at six thirty along with dinner, all duelists were strongly recommended to attend. Further rules and the structure to the tournament would be explained there. The rest of booklet was taken up with a map and an explanation of the rules for the duels.

It was the same rules as introduced at a tournament in Japan, called Battle City, but without a card's ownership riding on the duel. It was fine by her; she didn't know what her rarest card was.

Putting the book aside, she brought out her deck. Again. She looked at the top card and sighed. Hermione knew it backwards and forwards. She could name all the cards in her deck and their effects, as well as the effects of all the cards she had rejected for her deck. It was a pointless repetitive exercise that did nothing to calm her nerves. A distraction.

Feeling guilty, she brought out her war magic calculations. She may not be able to owl Harry right now, nor call due to his relatives, but damned if she didn't find someway to help.

Hermione had tried to call him dozens of times that summer already, but had failed each time. His aunt always answered the phone and she saw through any cover story she came up with. She had tired to figure out where he lived, but came up with a blank each time. Her attempt at triangulation failed, and there had been an odd noise, an almost static, over the phone when she had asked one of the Dursleys, posing as a tele-marketer in one of her repeated attempts. She was halfway certain that it was a result of a protection ward over the Dursleys and Harry, but wasn't positive. But as hard as she tried, she couldn't contact him.

She was worried. He should have at least sent a letter to her now by Hedwig now. It was possible he was grieving Sirius, but...

The pencil lead tore the paper and then broke under her hand. She took out another sheet of paper, and began to again.

She wasn't going to be useless. The new spells, sound in theory and all arithmetical theories would be ready when she gave them to Harry on the train.

The card game was great fun, but this may be life or death one day.

* * *

She had ignored the clock, but had been aware enough of the passage of time to know that she was missing dinner, but as always, the calculations were more important. She had let the ten minutes she had left herself to get ready go tick by, and then the extra five she had set aside to get down. Then she let another quarter hour pass after the dinner began. She felt like she could almost see the essence of magic, if she sat there long enough and played with her numbers.

Once she thought that though, she knew she had been there too long, and that was enough to tell her she truly was late.

She scrambled for the shoes she had set in her suitcase. She didn't find them, and then looked for the ones she had worn earlier. When contemplating outermost limits of the shield, and its magnitudes, she had toed off them under the desk. It was funny how the jargon was the first thing that came to mind about the placement of the shoes?

The banquet room's door was small, and she nearly went by the room. It creaked just as badly as doors in Hogwarts, that hadn't been oiled in an age. One or two people looked back, before turning their attention back to the front.

"... And in the third round, the number once again is cut in half, and the day ends. On Sunday, the last round of before the semi-finals begin is at ten o'clock, and the semi-finals at twelve thirty. All semi-finalists will be awarded duel disks. Using the holographic systems, the semi-finalist will duel on at a time..."

The tables were small; pitchers of water had been set out, along with trays of vegetables and cheese --appetizers. She slid into a seat at a table with two other duelist already sitting there. One, a girl with purple streaked hair and a daisy chain bracelet smiled briefly at her, before turning her attention back to the man at the podium.

"The grand prize is in an addition to the booster packs, the finalist have a chance to participate in the Global Tournament, as one of two of the champions this tournament will produce." The man standing at the podium held a glass high in the air. "To the best duelist!" he toasted.

"To the best duelist," Hermione mumbled along with the rest, toasting her still empty glass, before pouring water, and silently toasting again, before she drank.

* * *

The next day, Hermione woke to a crack of thunder before dawn, and spent the early morning wandering the hotel. Eventually, she came to the pool room where she sat, her feet in the water. It was a long time before she pulled her legs out, and stuffed them back into her sandals, but she felt marvelously calm.

Her first duel in the tournament was simple, and she finished it with nearly all her life points. The boy she had dueled smiled at her before flitting off to check on another duel. She had sat a moment longer, collecting her cards and thoughts. It was looking like she was genuinely good at this game.

The second round was nearly an hour later. The game went on for nearly an hour, and she was sweating as she finished, taking to her opponent's final one hundred life points away with Ooguchi, a water-beast that allowed her to attack him directly, and not batter through his defenses again. It had taken her too long to get to the card, she later thought. She had wanted it since her fourth turn, it hadn't appeared until well in to the thirtieth round.

She noted she had missed lunch, and had forgotten to eat before the duel. Hermione ordered room service when she was back in her room, and became further frustrated with her experimental problems and the sadly theoretical limits.

Nearly late to her last duel of the day, she still had the quill stuck behind her ear as she skidded in. She nodded to her opponent, and they began. The girl she dueled was intense and there was no small talk; she played single-mindedly, and left herself open for trap cards, with few defensive cards. However, the girl had pulled out a monster with over two thousand attack points by the end of the second round. Hermione began to forgot the equations that had been running though her brain and paid attention, using the hole to her advantage as she played cards to stall. She won.

Dinner was a relaxed affair, but she had chosen a table to sit alone at. At other tables, occasionally someone would come near tears having lost, and in one case, near fisticuffs, over an accusation of cheating.

Her dreams that night were restless; she saw of the cards coming alive, of them speaking and playing with her, and then there was a deep sadness, with fear and joy closely following, but she couldn't recall why in the morning.

The breakfast provided by the hotel was fine, until she began to pull out her deck, and looked it over. It hit her then: what was she doing? Harry needed her thinking, planning, researching, and helping him, not playing games. She'd grown out of this.

Never the less, here she was, almost to the semi-finals. One of the sixteen remaining and if she won three more duels, she would win the British-division of the Global Tournament. There was a chance, though it was small, that she would be able to go to Japan and duel there.

Which was an utterly ridiculous idea, but one that she was starting to entertain. It would be nice to get out of the country, just for a week. She didn't want to look at the news, but forced herself to each day; unexplained deaths were on the rise. However, she was afraid that leaving the country, even temporarily was a cop out.

"Hermione Granger, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Hermione answered.

"Maria Kaur," a girl with dusky skin, and a friendly, but challenging, smile said. She looked to be about a year younger then Hermione. Not waiting for Hermione's invitation, she sat down, looked briefly at the papers clustered on the table and shook her head at the advanced equations.

Hermione frowned, and gathered the papers possessively, shuffling them together into a single pile.

"This really your first tournament?"

"Yes."

The girl nodded. "Thought so. I hadn't heard of you before."

"You make a habit of knowing all the duelists?" Hermione asked.

"Not quite," Maria searched her for a long moment. "I make a habit of knowing the strong duelists."

"Oh."

They were both silent and then the girl fidgeted, and looked at her watch. She popped back to her feet. "I'll see you later."

* * *

Hermione took a deep breath and went to the ballroom that had been converted to the dueling room. The table number had been steadily decreasing, and now there were only eight, with sixteen chairs. By the end the time the next round, they would be in the semi-finals, and the duel disks would be handed out.

She would have one, if she won this duel. Either way it went, she would still see the holograms.

A confident boy, just past puberty smirked at her, and sat down across from her. They waited, not speaking, until the bell rang through the room, marking the beginning of the round. They played rapidly, drawing and slapping down cards with few words. Having played several good games now (there was only so much going over records of old duels could help), Hermione picked out the theme of the deck within three minutes. It was trickery and illusion. Half the cards he placed face down were serious, she needed to rid the field of them quickly, else they interrupt her plans, but the others were useless and distractions. However, though he had plenty of monsters, he could not stand up to her strongest monster, the White River Otter.

As she announced the last attack, he shook his head, and collected his cards.

"Good game," he murmured, and slipped away.

The referee tasked to watching her game as well as three others, pointed her to the waiting room, were two friends who had both made the semi-finals as well were laughing. It was another half hour before the last of the eight semi-finalists joined.

* * *

The duel disk was stunning, Hermione decided. A marvel not only of technology, but of artistry. Its design was beautiful enough, but the pure power she could almost feel, flicking it on, and watching the tray snap into place awed her.

For a brief moment, an instant that would always stand crystal clear in her memories, she wondered which was more important, this and the game or magic. She shook the question and the uncertain answer away. Magic obviously mattered the most. Without it, she would have never met Ron and Harry.

They were her best friends, and for all the quarreling over homework and Quidditch, they would be until the end, whatever that might be. She would stand by Harry and Ron until that end, and face it with them.

But... this was summer, and there was nothing she could do that she had not already done. The only way to help Harry was to complete the spells she was creating.

And despite the guilt that she felt playing a game, she also noticed she had found a way around the outer limit of Pucelete theory. If she found a way to bend the field of magic and space around the caster's wand for a second, the spell would work. She hadn't even thought of the idea, until the last game, when she played Trap Hole.

It might be sophistry, but it felt like the game was helping.

And it had been a long time since she had a diversion as fun as this.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you for your reviews. This is not beta read.

* * *

Chapter Five: Towards Zero

* * *

"Hullo, Mum. It's me." 

"Hermione!" The voice crackled over the phone, followed muted mutterings on the other end. "Sorry, it was your father. How's the card ga-- I mean, 'duels' going?"

"I'm doing well." Hermione paused, before plowing forward. "I haven't lost yet. I have two more duels."

"Ah," her mother crackled knowingly. "You think you might well win this."

"I didn't--" _Well, I might_, Hermione stopped her tirade. She did think she could win this. Half the game was a mind game, and she had found that she was rather good at those, if nothing else because she was an unknown, and her patterns were still new. "Yeah, I might."

"Well, your passport is still valid." Her mother sighed.

Hermione wondered why she sounded almost relieved, before upping it to a trick of the phone. "Yeah. I was wondering about the wizarding side of things. I know that to go to Australia need to declare your intention by letter to their Ministry a week ahead of time. I can't remember what the laws are for Japan though. I have a book upstairs--"

"And you want me to go get it and look it up for you?"

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble." Already Hermione heard slight thunks; her mother must have answered on the cordless. "It's on the top shelf of the bookcase. You'll need to look up Japan in the index and--"

"Hermione, I know."

"Sorry. Ron doesn't always." For that matter, neither did Harry, but that was what she was for. And most books in the library didn't have an index; it had made Nicholas Flammel so elusive. She tapped her fingers, waiting.

"Found it. All that's required by you is a muggle passport, and for you to present yourself at the Ministry with in forty-eight hours of entering the country."

Hermione smiled. Another weight off her chest. She hadn't looked before leaving, not planning to let the knowledge bother her, but now that she was so close to going, she had to know. She didn't fancy pretending to be an utter muggle, and not even take her wand to get into the country.

"Ohhh." The hiss of breath played havoc with speaker. "Hermione, did you know that they do _not_ have underage restrictions on magic there?"

"What?" Hermione asked, her mind already beginning to whirl in plans.

"Yes, you can use it when you're over there."

"I didn't know..." An idea began to grow, but she tried ignore it. She hadn't won yet.

* * *

Actually summoning a monster was like waving her wand for the first time. It was an almost religious experience. The light played of the scales of the mermaid she had summoned, and it swam though the air fluidly to the center of the field. Hermione placed a trap card face down, and played, delighted. It was a beautiful game. 

Her opponent had been the first to sacrifice a monster and to attack. The monster had appeared in a shower of sparks. She had admired it for a second, until it attacked her.

It was almost a physical blow to see her monster destroyed, and a few hundred of her life points blown away as well.

However, as she ordered her Swan Warrior to attack, she paid him back in full and more, wiping out the last of his life points.

The next hour, waiting for her final duel passed in a blur. Hermione shuffled her deck nervously, but couldn't bare to look at the card faces, or the duel disk. Panic clogged her throat.

It may have been just a game, but the stakes had been upped the moment her mother had confirmed her suspicion.

* * *

She was ready for when the referee called for her, and with steady hands, she drew five cards. 

Chris Tanner was the best duelist she had faced yet. His style was cutthroat, often sacrificing his monsters. As long as it gave him the advantage, the cost didn't matter. He sacrificed a seven star monster for a six star monster with a strong attack, but a weaker defense. It destroyed the monster that she had in attack mode, and bested it by four hundred attack points.

From there on, it was a close duel.

It was the final stretch of the duel, and though her life points were lower, she felt that they were evenly matched. She had one card, that would allow her to summon one of her higher class monsters, but it would let her opponent bring back any monster from his graveyard. If he was choosing for an effect monster, like the man she had dueled against in the second round, she might have chanced it, but as it was she didn't dare.

"Draw," she murmured, looking at the hopeless hand, adding another useless card to it. Playing Hysteric Fairy in defense mode, she struggled to contain her sigh. It was a shield, for the next turn only. "I end my turn."

Chris looked at her suspiciously and then at her face down card. It was there first time she had played a monster face down without a magic or trap card waiting face down. He had two monsters out on the field already, both having over a two thousand attack points. If he did not summon anymore, she would survive the turn by a margin of three hundred to five hundred life points, depending on which monster attacked.

That was _if_ he did not summon another monster. He had no monsters left in his hand, she had seen to that two turns ago, when she had played a magic card that let her see his hand and discard two cards.

She met his eyes calm, willing herself not to react to anything. He was baiting her, seeing how she would react as he put down another magic card. Hermione would not let him win this. She was going to go to Japan, and test her spells there.

The boy searched her stance and face. "I end my turn," he said, uncertain.

Hermione nodded, and placed her hand over her deck, praying desperately and wordlessly for the card she needed. She had only this turn and _maybe _one more; she would make it count.

This was not just for her, not just a game. This meant she could go to Japan, see their library, and best of all, test her spells. This was about keeping Harry alive. Hermione wondered, that in winning this game of cards, if she would win the war.

She drew.

A minute later, she could only stare at as her opponent's life points blinked down to zero. The monsters disappeared in a shower of sparks, the holographic system disengaging. The roar of the crowd swept though the ballroom. She looked around, having forgot them in last desperate minutes when the world had narrowed to her and the cards.

The referee smiled at her, before quieting the room for the next duel, for the other finalists that would represent Britain.

The congratulatory hand shakes, and advice wore thin very quickly, as did the small talk. It penetrated Hermione's clouds of dream and hope, bringing her back down to earth. The gushing of gleeful fans (she was still trying to get over _that_), made Hermione want to run. No wonder Harry hated this. She could feel her face was glowing red, and wished it wasn't. This was so embarrassing.

They crowded around her, shoving paper and cards that they wanted her to autograph. Numbly she did, her hands moving automatically, and the ball-point pen feeling unfamiliar in her hand. She stared as her former opponent did the same, with much greater ease, talking to his smaller clump of fans. After the tenth card, she began to only clearly write the first letter of her name, and scribble a line after, in parody of her signature.

* * *

For first and the only time at the tournament, Hermione made it to a meal early. She and Maria Kaur sat in the places of honor, as the champions of the tournament. The other girl chatted with duelists, but Hermione was quiet. 

"You played a good game," Maria commented, as the soup was served. "You honestly tried today. The style of your dueling completely changed."

"Really?" Hermione said. She didn't feel like making small talk. The day had been too long.

"Yeah." Maria seemed to take a hint, and she only talked to Hermione to ask for her to pass the salt afterwards, until dessert. Most of the tables began to clear, and the one they sat at was empty but for them.

"You've never been to a Japanese tournament, right?" Maria asked, poking her jello cautiously.

"No... have you?"

"Twice. I went to the second world tournament there, and..." Maria put down her fork, taking another sip of water. "I also went to Duelist Kingdom."

"That tournament about a year ago. It was held by Industrial Illusions?" Hermione rested her chin on a hand, now slightly more interested. It was one of the earliest tournament to use the holographic technology.

"Yeah. I lasted less than a day." Maria drew the straw out of glass, and twirled it, before continuing. "Which I am sincerely grateful for. At least three people went missing in that tournament. One was a duelist who drew a gun in finals, because he lost." She smashed the straw flat. "There were other rumors too."

Hermione wondered if Maria was smarter than she had originally thought. As scare tactics went, this was effective. However, she was a witch, and could handle herself. Hermione prided herself on rarely making stupid mistakes.

"I'm still going." Hermione wiped her mouth with napkin, and left the table.

* * *

Her parents were trilled that she was going. Almost too trilled, and Hermione almost had a few suspicions as to why, but she didn't voice them. They were all happy she was going to Japan, and there was no need to stop her. She wanted to there to test spells, they wanted her out of the country and presumable out of harm's way. There was no need to let them know what the injury rate for spell testing was; she was careful, and it was unlikely to happen to her.

* * *

It was a probably a good thing that she was able to pick up the phone a few days later, rather then her mother. 

"Excuse me, but is Hermione Granger there?"

"Yes, that's me," Hermione answered cautiously. The voice over the phone sounded vaguely like Parvati's, but she didn't have Hermione's number; she also had no reason to call.

"Thank god. I was afraid that I would have to try to catch you at the airport."

Hermione leaned against the counter, twining the phone cord around her fingers. "Maria?"

"Oh! Uh, yeah, it's me." She sounded rather sheepish. "I... uh..."

"Why are you calling?" Hermione asked again.

"Look, you're a new duelist." Maria was serious now, her voice colder. "You haven't gotten into the networks or anything. This is going to be your first international tournament, right?"

"Yes," Hermione said, trying not to lose her patience.

"There's a rumor going around--"

"Look, I'm really not interested," Hermione cut in. "I have reasons of my own for wanting to go, and I'm going to go regardless of what you say."

"Just hear me out," Maria snapped. "I'm doing you a favor here. Look, Seto Kaiba's little brother has disappeared. There's nothing official, but he hasn't been seen in public recently. The tabloids think it's a fight, but..."

"I'm sure it's something like that," Hermione sighed. They didn't have a dark lord running around there, and she doubted that a man who owned a multinational company didn't have sense and money to hire bodyguards.

"Whatever. All I'm doing is telling you that I'm not going. I'll see you on the dueling circuit, maybe." The off hook tone sounded a moment later, and Hermione hung up the phone.

She went back to packing and weighing her bags, trying to cram the maximum amount of books in.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter Six: Shadows on the Wall

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Hermione was still wincing when she stepped into the hotel's lobby. The only consolation she could find in her pounding headache was that a least the spell had worked. The blank Japanese-English dictionary in her purse proved the point just as well, though. It had been hours since she preformed the spell in plane's restroom --while over the ocean, to not involve sticky legalities.

The spell was still working, and she could only understand about half of what was being said, and only if she concentrated. She was really being to understand why the spell wasn't popular, border-line dark arts classifications aside. It was taking her hours to make sense of the mash it had made of her language skills. Even with the fact it wasn't recommended to perform the spell more than once a year, she didn't see herself using it again, any time soon.

Checking in for the hotel was easy, and she had her bags sent up to her room with in a matter of minutes. However, the line to the tournament to the official tournament registration table was significantly longer. Most of the people in line had sat down, and already decks were out.

Hermione felt for her own, in her purse beside the blank Japanese-English dictionary. There was barely enough room in the bag for the deck, as she found when she had grabbed it out of her luggage. It had been bulging with books, and when she had put in the deck the day before, she could have sworn stitches were popping.

Her wand was safely at her side, stabbing her armpit slightly, but it was the best place she could find for it. She was afraid to put it in her bags, and wouldn't wear it openly. It had been enough of a hassle to get it though airport security.

"You're new," a voice purred from behind her.

It took Hermione a moment to process. The spell was effective, even if it took a moment for her to figure out what the woman meant.

The woman asking it was a whole other matter. Hermione hadn't a clue about what to think of her. She had a cocky smirk, and looked like she would take on even a king with aplomb. Her choice of clothes startled hermione slightly, and she couldn't help but wonder if she could breath a corset with that much upward push.

Hermione blinked, absorbed all of it, and smiled. "Yes. Hermione Granger. I'm from England."

"Mai Kujaka."

The name rang a bell, and Hermione recalled that she had been a finalist in a number tournament. She was a pro, and made a living off of tournament winnings. Mai was also just one of many high caliber duelists.

_It's a good thing,_ Hermione thought, _that I'm not here to win_.

"Nice to meet you."

"You too. What I meant was that you're completely new to world stage, aren't you?"

Hermione nodded. "You aren't the first person to comment on it."

"You could be big news," Mai shrugged. "Newbies used to attract a lot of attention before the game got really popular. They don't so much now, not most of them anyway." Her eyes were distant. "Unless they win."

"Oh." Hermione wondered if her win in the tournament in England was enough to attract that sort of attention. She couldn't figure out if Mai had been looking for unfamiliar faces in general, her especially, or whether it was chance they had met.

Suddenly, Mai was leaning on her shoulder. "Anyways, hon, you are big news as is."

"I... am?" A dozen thoughts and idea flitted though Hermione's mind. "Why?"

"You're a _girl_. This is male dominated game. I don't have to do the math _there,_ do I?" Mai was smirking when Hermione looked up.

Hermione flushed and shook her head, very mindful of how Mai was still leaning over her. "I understand what you mean."

"Mhhh," Mai clearly doubted her words, but she was smiling. "So how long have you been into the game?"

Hermione shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable. "I started to play this summer."

"Really? You've picked it up fast." Mai smirked. "It'll be fun to duel you later then."

"Er, thanks?" Hermione offered, unnerved by the predatory look in Mai's eyes.

"Don't worry," Mai laughed. "This is a traditional single-elimination tournament setup. Unless I have some luck, we probably won't face each other now."

Hermione forced herself to smile back. That was good. Mai, she seemed confident, and there was no way that didn't carry over to her game.

"But," Mai added wickedly, "If you go to World Walkabout in October, I would love to face you then."

"Can't."

Mai looked at her strangely. "If you can get this far, there's no way that couldn't go."

"I go to a boarding school," Hermione clarified.

Mai shook her head. "You really should talk to your teachers then. Walkabout is one of the best tournaments out there. Are you going to Illusions Reborn next month?"

"I don't know. I'm rather surprised that I'm even here," Hermione admitted. "When I went to my regionals, and then nationals, it was just meant for a bit of fun. I never thought I would..."

"Ahhhh, I see," Mai murmured, as a spark kindled in her eyes. "I definitely want to duel you."

"Well, maybe we can later, for fun?" Hermione suggested.

"That would be nice, but a duelist only plays her best in competition or when she has something to lose."

"I might not--"

"You will play again. One with your skill won't able not to play."

Hermione stared at her. What she was saying...

"Mai!" A boy who looked about her own age was running over, ignoring the curses that followed his haphazard path. He was grinning fiercely, and seemed to take up double the space he actually needed, waving his arms.

"Katsuya," Mai greeted neutrally, but she was fighting a smile.

"Whatcha doing here?"

"Here for the prize money, of course," Mai said shamelessly. "You?"

"Uhhh," the boy scratched the back of his neck, "I'll tell you later. Who's your friend?"

"Hermione Granger," the witch interrupted. "And you are...?"

"Jounochi." He offered her his hand to shake; his grip was firm.

"Is Yuugi here?" Mai asked abruptly.

"Hey, cut a guy some slack. We..." Jounochi trailed off before nodding. "Yeah. Kaiba too. I've been seeing a lot of other heavy hitters."

"Fascinating," Mai drawled. "I've notice the exact same thing. It's really odd. Most people prefer the roving challenge type."

"Yeah," Jounochi muttered. "It's very interesting all right. They switched the format around, up until a week ago, it was supposed to be. Now they've been having 'issues' with the bracket. For the last four damn hours."

"You joking," Mai said disgustedly. "That's what's taking so long?"

"Yep. Supposedly their computer program crashed. Something about incompatible languages or systems," Jounochi spat. "Every thing has been messed up. If it was just you choose your opponent and duel, things would much simpler. I think we won't even know who are first opponent is until tomorrow."

"If you're so upset about the layout, then why did you even come?" Mai asked wryly.

"It's... complicated. Can we talk about it later?" Jounochi begged, his eyes going to Hermione.

"Oh," Mai said flatly. "Is it to the point that I should run while I can, or are not going to know until I'm trapped again?" She glared, but fear was in her eyes, and she only met Jounochi's gaze for a second.

"Mai," Jounochi looked away. "I..."

"Never mind," Mai hissed, and Hermione felt she was intruding on something truly private. "I'll be _fine_."

"Liar," Jounochi whispered, and Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "I-- what the hell is he doing here?"

Hermione followed both his and Mai's astonished looks to a boy with white hair. She spared a brief thought to wonder about the amount of bleach needed for that paleness before Jounochi spoke.

"Mai, I'll catch you later. I need to--"

"Yeah. You do." Mai's voice was hollow.

Jounochi nodded, before taking her hand quickly. He seemed as shocked as her at his action, and dropped her hand as he was afraid of being burned. "I should go talk to him. I promise, I'll tell you if, well, you know."

"Go."

Jounochi nodded uncertainly, before taking off at a jog after the person, who was already out on the street. Hermione wondered if he would be able to catch up to his acquaintance, before he was swept into the crowd.

"Did he go looking for a friend?" she asked as curiosity overcame her.

Mai shook her head, and then paused. "Of a very odd sort, perhaps. I need a drink. I'll catch you later."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The line moved slower than molasses, and by the time Hermione reached the registration table, she had recalled four spells that would have created a tournament bracket. Honestly, it shouldn't have been that hard to randomly pair up people to fight.

She nearly collapsed on her bed when she reached her room, but with the over twelve hours she had managed to sleep away on the plane, she found she couldn't. With a sigh, she began to unpack. With the brisk efficiency, and a few spells, her bags were empty. She then slipped out to the ice machine. After she returned, and had taken several too large gulps of water, she stopped stalling.

Slowly, she took out the sheaves of paper she had labored over, and quickly did her best to check to the jumps between Arithmancy, the Grammatica, and the incantation. Finding nothing wrong with it, she went to the next paper, until she had checked all of her potential spells to test.

Again, she reasoned that there was no other way. Spell testing was dangerous, and she didn't even pretend to have the proper facilities. However, Voldemort was more dangerous, and a certain and tangible peril. What ifs, and maybes were not going to stop her.

If she told herself that enough times, she hoped she'd believe it.

Hermione slowly began to move her wand in the complex patterns she had outlined. Whispered the words brought a shaky, misty shield around her. Again, she tried the spell, and then made minor adjustments to her calculations.

It was an hour before she let the air completely clear of spells.

Her wand arm was trembling for the amount of casting she had done. She couldn't move her wand in a straight line, and that was enough of a sign for her to take a break, as exultant as she was at the spell working.

She sat, and looked at her flipped though her cards, smiling at favorites, though her mind was still swirling with Arithmatical symbols and equations. Little things were making more sense now, and Hermione could see several other problems she had unwittingly added in to her other spells. Despite that, it was hard to summon any irritation. It was a good start that even one spell had worked.

A finger ghosted over her Whitewater Otter card. It was easy to relax doing that. Since seeing it in the holograms, she could picture it in her mind. It was more of a memory of a wondrous creature --like the first time she had seen a unicorn-- rather then one of a technological feat. It seemed too real for that.

She remembered her patronus, and smiled.

There could be a way to make it real, some how. There doubtlessly was precedence somewhere.

She stood and stretched, still holding the card. She examined it carefully, seeing the minute details as the base equation she would probably need came to mind.

It would be a silly thing to waste time on, but it at least would be fun. Hermione examined the card once last time as she resolved to try. She would see this card come to life, and be almost real.

Still... it was easy to draw out a picture in her mind of what it was. The way the fur would clump, the way the otter's tail lashed, and its whiskers twitch. She imagined the eyes, and the blankness she remembered from the holograms disappeared. Now they were bright and liquid, sliding to watch her and wait for her command.

Hermione's arm convulsed jerked, while her hand smashed. Her chair pitched as she fell limp, nearly tipping her out.

Before her, stood the Whiteriver Otter, as real as life, as real as magic. It stared at her unerringly, canting its head.

Unthinkingly, Hermione outstretched a hand seeing how it trembled, reaching toward the creature. Nearly touching it, she paused, and too many thoughts to think swirled through her mind. She tried to discard them, and reached the final length.

Her hand passed though air. The otter had disappeared.

"Well... _hell._" she said slowly, slumping.

There could have been any number of reasons that her magic had done that. It could have been a side effect of the shield, some botched Arithmancy equations that had led her to say extraneous words. That would be dangerous. With one mistake in spell testing, often came many. A wrong equations there, could mean getting webbed fingers.

One of the other more likely possibilities was accidental magic, but it had never worked like this before. Before Hogwarts it would always be little things that she truly wanted. The otter had been thought about in a fit of whimsy. If it had worked like that, she would have had a whole stable of horses and ponies by the time she was eight.

Hermione massaged her temples, already feeling a headache coming in. She sat for several minutes, further reviewing her options, and coming with nothing pleasing. She nearly screamed when she heard a knock at the room's door.

"Yes?" she snapped.

"Hermione?"

Her head banged against the back of the chair and she nearly cursed, but stood. "What?"

"It's Mai. Want to have some fun?"

Hermione regarded the door, suspicious. "Now is not really a good time."

"A lot of duelist are meeting in the ballroom."

"That wasn't on the schedule," Hermione pointed out, opening the door.

Mai smirked. "I know. That's what I meant by _fun_. Grab you deck and disk, and come on."

"I'm a little--"

"What else do you have to do?" Mai asked.

"Err, I..."

Mai stared at her, plainly waiting not for an explanation, but for Hermione to come. Her eyes swept over the room, the nest of papers and books, the wand on still beside them, and the abacus Hermione had been using. She saw nothing that merited more attention then dueling. "Let's go."

Hermione ignored the odd tingle going up her arm and increasing heartbeat when she picked up her deck.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

A/N:

Okay, this is the first time I'm doing notes on WotC, but I figured it needed to be done.

1.) The translation spell is borderline-illegal, and requires a very specific thought pattern to work well. Hermione was rather lucky it worked, and didn't leave her unable to talk coherently for days. It's not well known, or used.

2.) I'm leaving out the honorifics _when it's from Hermione's POV._ The translation spell tends to let Hermione ignore them, or if they are extreme enough, to translate them into something else in English.

3.) Katsuya is Jounochi first name, and Mai is one of the very few (as in the only person I can think of) who calls him that. This is referenced to in the anime dub by her calling him Joseph.

4.) The tournament bracket means diagram that shows how the winner of each match will progress.

Also, thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, even if I was very slack about replying. I'll try to do better this time.


	7. Chapter 7

Un-betaed.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter Seven: Currents

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The hotel's ballroom was grandiose, magnificent, and utterly over the top, with several chandeliers, and oil paintings in oversized gilded frames. The clearly Western style of the room confused Hermione, but she put the thought aside easily, mentally tagging the oddity as likely an outdated fashion, before staring at the actual inhabitants of the room.

The milling duelists were much out of place. There was no organization, or ringleader, but only bands and clumps of people, talking. The only unifying aspect was the duel disks.

Hermione shifted, looking again at the door, before switching to look at Mai. She still didn't quite know what to think of her. It was odd, but she missed Hogwarts. Even if house stereotypes weren't accurate, she would at least have an idea of where to start with Mai.

Many of the looks Mai drew did slip down to her nonexistent neckline, then further down, but when they spoke to her, but Hermione also caught how more often than not, the gaze slide to her duel disk.

Hermione's own duel disk was light on her arm, but her deck felt heavy in her pocket. There was the undeniable urge to go back to her hotel room, but the memory of the otter held her back. It was easier not to think about it in a crowd. As real and wondrous as it had been, the idea of _why_ it had appeared scared her.

Mai suddenly sighed, a deep sigh laced with relief.

"What is it?"

Mai looked over and then away, and her she said in too light a voice, "I just noticed that someone wasn't here."

"Oh." Hermione wanted to pry, but didn't.

Mai looked at her, almost waiting, but a slow smile grew as the silence between them almost became comfortable. Mai stretched her arms, and her smile turned to a fierce grin. "Figured out why we're all here?"

"No," Hermione admitted.

"Ah," Mai said softly. "You aren't looking then. Do you feel you have somewhere else to be?"

"Well, yes!" Hermione tried to say lightly, but the words came out as snapped. "I have other things to do."

Mai looked at her, eyes blank. "Do you? What did you come to Japan for then?"

Hermione looked away.

"I see."

"I have something else to do tonight." A dozen lies sprang to mind, but not even half were believable.

"More important than_dueling_?" The question was asked with incredulity, but there was uncertainty in the tone.

Hermione shrugged. I need to make up spells so I can save my friends and a secret world, seemed a little more than unlikely. But with the faces of Harry and Ron resolving in her mind, a memory of all them laughing in the common room almost echoing in her thoughts, she met Mai's eyes

She nodded. "Yes. More important than dueling."

The other duelist flowed around, and they both stood, staring each other down, daring the other to break. Mai wanted something, but so did Hermione. Peace for a night to study, and plan her stay was not much to ask.

Mai then laughed, breaking the tension. "Yes," she said, almost silently, the word wedged between chuckles. "You..."

"I what?" asked Hermione.

"You have fire in you, girl. Question is," Mai paused dramatically.

Hermione arched an eyebrow, ready to play her game, as long as Mai got on with it. If it got her peace, she would do it.

"Do you have the will to back it up?" Mai paused, and her eyes flickered over Hermione, searching her. "There's a reason not to many woman are among the top duelists. Of the top of my head, I can only think of a few. A girl in America, not even thirteen yet. She's a brat; I think she'll burn out once she notices boys. The other is actually your fellow representative, Maria Kaur, but she's only come to Japan twice, out of all the times she's a had chance to."

"And?" Hermione prompted.

"I've seen only one other girl with talent and drive like yours. We had half a duel before I saw she was skilled beyond exceptions, but utterly devoted to her a friend, and was only dueling for him."

Hermione then smiled and knew from slight narrowing of Mai's eyes, it was an odd one. She smiled a little more broadly, thinking of Harry. "Wasn't that enough of a duel for you then?"

"No. I forfeited after I lost one of my prized monsters. She wasn't going to play again. I want a rival, not just an opponent."

"You think that I--" The final words choked Hermione. All she had wanted when she had come here was a place to practice magic under-age, and some time to test to her spells. But this--

"You maybe that woman, you may not be."

"But there's plenty of other people!" Hermione gestured wildly around. "There! Dinosaur Ryuuzaki over there. Didn't he win this year's Japanese Nationals?"

"And lost last year's," Mai drawled. "Besides, I've beaten him already. He's too weak. He's hit a glass ceiling. He can't play the mind games far enough."

"Jonouchi?" Hermione cast around. "You've talked to him before."

Mai's face clouded. "Perhaps once, but after... That option was no longer available after Battle City." Mai looked away.

Hermione nodded faintly, wishing she had taken a chance to get a glass and a drink from one of the many pitchers of ice water set out.

"Besides," Mai said suddenly, "Most men are distracted by these." She took deep breath, and her chest strained at the corset, the curve of her breast suddenly clear.

Hermione flushed, and then looked away quickly. "Ah. Yes, that would be a rather distracting technique to some."

Mai chuckled. "Precisely. That's why I'm asking you. _Do_ you think you could be my rival?"

Hermione settled on a quick shrug. "I can't go to tournaments. I have school."

Mai nodded, not seeming particularly unhappy. The early tenseness, and intensity had drained away. "Hmmm. Talk to me after tonight then. HEY!" She yelled, waving. " Roba, I want to duel you!"

"I thought you wanted-" Hermione began.

"To duel you? Later." Mai flashed her a quick, half-feral grin. "Later. Duel a few others tonight. I don't need a fast answer."

She left in with a sharp turn, and her swirling curls almost touched Hermione's dazed face.

The turns in the conversation had left Hermione more confused, and Mai still hadn't told her what was going on. Look closer? Mai had said something like that, but all Hermione could see were duelists, gathering for no apparent reason.

So then, that meant an obscure reason, that most of the duelist had picked up on, enough for this to happen with little to no communication. Was it some type of little known custom to meet and greet the night before the tournament?

Mai and Roba where not the only ones dueling; across, the room she could already see two duelists --one she recognized as an Australian duelist that was said to be among the top twenty in the world --according to the magazines, and the other a lesser known New Zealander-- in the final steps of their duel. Normally, she thought that the duel might have drawn a crowd, but the other duelists where barely watching, too busily looking elsewhere...

_...Looking elsewhere for opponents._ Hermione blinked at the realization, but couldn't find anything that would contradict it. While there was a tournament the next day, the duelist had already begun the fight. Maybe this had something to do with the mind games Mai had mentioned.

However, Hermione didn't feel like dueling, for all that she could feel the deck in her pocket.

What she had done earlier in her room, bring a card's image to life, preyed heavily on her mind. She had never been much given over to accidental magic, even when she had been a child. It had been easy for her to find something, before Hogwarts. She'd always had helped search for lost keys, planners, and books, finding them in a place the others had sworn they had searched, but it had been a quiet talent, nothing blatant. She had been every so surprised to get her letter.

To have called up, created, or called up the card-otter was something beyond what she had ever done accidentally. If she had done it in England, the owl from the Improper Use of Magic Ministry would have already been at her window.

In all honesty, Hermione admitted to herself, she was now scared. She was half-afraid to go back up to her room. If she did, she would practice and test more spells, until she fell over from exhaustion.

If she did try to do more magic, she might do the same thing, and the thing would be back.

One of the problems with being as well read, was that she could thing of all sorts of things that creature could be; the ideas ranged from a shape-shifter, to magic wave, given form by her thoughts. Other, darker ideas lurked in the back of her mind. There were curses, slow acting that were virtually undetectable, but drove the victim into inescapable madness. Death Eaters knew them. She'd read her history books, the brutal, honest ones not in the curriculum, that showed just why Harry was so revered as the Boy-Who-Lived.

That train of thought brought her right back to her worries about spell casting, the limited time she had in Japan, and its more lenient laws. It was a circular pattern that was going though its third loop, when she distantly realized that someone was asking her something.

"You're the English girl, right?"

The man who asked wasn't much older than her, but had a scar on one cheek. His hair was comparable to that of many other duelists, slightly unkept and sticking up everywhere, expect for the think ponytail at the nape of his neck. His outfit was odd, but everything about this whole card game was starting to seem more than strange to Hermione.

"Yes."

"Ryota Kajiki," the man said simply, pointing at himself. "You have a water deck too. I looked up the record of duels in England."

Hermione shook her head, "No, my deck has a focus on water cards, but it's nothing more than that."

"You really are new," Kajiki smiled. "Do you even know what's happening right now?"

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. Mai's help she could understand; it was almost a 'we girls should stick together' attitude mixed with a longing for an equal. This man had looked up what little past she had dueling. Why?

"I think I have a good guess," she settled on saying.

"It's the real tournament," Kajiki said, shrugging. "None of us are happy with the set-up for tomorrow. It's almost as bad and regulated as Nationals, but the prize isn't nearly as good."

"Nationals really that bad here in Japan?"

Kajiki looked at her oddly. "They're infamous for it. If you're playing in it, you're only after the prize money, or maybe trying to get noticed. This is your first international tournament, right? You might want to consider going to yours for more rankings."

"You always this helpful?" Hermione asked.

"Only to people I want to duel." He saw her disbelieving look, and the grin on his face eased a little, becoming less forced. "I'd even feed you if I thought you would duel me later. Surely that information is worth one quick duel."

"It's nothing that I couldn't have figured out myself," Hermione bristled.

"Here's a little more then," Kajiki said softly. "Both Yuugi Mutou and Seto Kaiba are here too, and neither of them have been seen since they checked in,and went to Mutou's suite on the sixth floor. I don't think they're going to be down here tonight, which means anyone can win."

Hermione shrugged, even if the idea of dueling did seem a little more attractive. Better perhaps then sitting in her room and writing a list from memory of long term curses that could cause delusions.

Her deck was already out of her pocket, and her hand had almost placed it into the proper slot on the duel disk before she consciously realized that she was going to duel.

"Fine," Hermione said, throwing her plan to go back to her room and research more to the wind, "We can duel."

Kajiki grinned, and let his own duel disk activate.

Hermione followed suit, and drew her hand, fanning the cards out. The hand wasn't perfect, but she could probably make due with it. Probably.

Kajiki seemed more thrilled by his hand and began the duel by placing a monster face down on the field, along with another card face down.

Hermione judged it likely to be a trap, and followed suit, laying one of her weaker monsters. A turn later, she regretted her restraint when his trap activated. She knew she was now dueling at a very different level, and suddenly the glimpses of strategy she had seen reading reports of major duels dizzied her. So did the lack of high-level strategy she had used when putting together her own deck --which while still quite serviceable, had a few fatal flaws. Not the least of which of those were a lack of versatile magic cards, but she felt something more than that was missing from her deck.

She was slightly confused a few times when her still very new knowledge of Japanese didn't quite mesh with what Kajiki was saying, though it was obvious that he did love the sea. She couldn't quite understand whether he was trying to become a marine biologist or a fisherman.

He was... odd enough, that she was starting to think that he really _did_ mean he wanted to become one of the world's greatest fisherman. When he sacrificed yet another fish to play an even bigger fish, she was nearly sure of it... but this 'bigger fish' had over twenty-five hundred attack points.

The duel became harder, and unnecessary thoughts were shoved aside as the sheer exhilaration of each card caught Hermione. It was easy to stop thinking about the half-finished calculations she still had to do, easier still to forget about how she would need to set up the next set of answers to transmute into wand motions and words.

Each card flip became a motion that meant everything, a chance to win to be gained or lost.

Both their decks over half played, Hermione won, her lithe Rusalka, a vengeful water-maiden, destroying Kajiki's Flying Fish. It was a weak monster to have played late in the game, and Hermione held her breath as it shattered. However, the single card Kajiki had left on the field remained face down, and his life-points dropped to zero.

He looked at her as he put his deck back together. "You're still rough in a few places," he said, his earlier exuberance gone. "But... we all get stronger." The silence stretched between them a moment longer, and then Kajiki shrugged. "Get more practice in tonight. There are a few other heavy-hitters that aren't here tonight, but chances are --if you go far enough tomorrow-- you'll duel one of them."

"Thanks," Hermione murmured, still not exactly sure where her earlier resolve to go back to her room had gone to.

"I'll see you around."

A few moments after Kajiki left, she was challenged again, and then after that, again. Duels began to blur together, but later she would be able to clearly remember the card order and if she won or lost. However, as she played, Hermione was hard pressed to remember anything but the immediately now and what should be happening in a few turns.

It was a pure freedom to play.

The air in the ballroom had become stale after several hours, too many people packed into one room, and Hermione finally found time to stop, and go to the restroom. She stared at her reflection for several minutes, before going out of the hotel entirely, gasping in fresher night air.

But, even there, the thrill of the duel found her.

An arrogant boy, with moon-white hair and a duel disk found her.

"Let's duel." He grinned, and it was smile too wide to be called a smirk.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOooOoOoOoOoOoOoOo


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: I do **not** like writing duels.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter Eight: Beyond Mere Shadows

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The expression on the his face was odd. Something was there, hiding underneath the layer of amusement. Hermione had learned to avoid being caught alone with any Slytherin who wore the same expression. It was self-righteous, and unanswerable to any normal system of justice.

She licked dry lips. "I'd rather not."

He shrugged. "That's too bad."

Hermione reached for her non-existent robe sleeve, wanting the wand that was not there, nor tucked up in her hair. Her heartbeat jumped.

The way his not-smirk grew – it was almost as if he could hear it, beating frantically against her ribcage.

She began to shake her head, when she head a soft hum from around her arm.

"Wearing that is acknowledgment enough by the true rules." The smirk had twisted into a snarl of determination.

Her hands balled, tight enough for her to feel her short nails digging into her skin. "Stop this," she commanded, wanting her wand more than anything, ignoring his baiting.

"The games go on, girl," he crooned, "And you aren't the only one I've to play this night."

"This game stops."

He shook his head, dark amusement stealing onto his face. "No, dark games never do, until someone wins… or forfeits. You could do that too, if you wanted."

If he had said that before, before she had heard the name and felt an instinctual shiver trace its way down her back, she might have forfeited. A dark game, was this what Duel Monsters really was? But then, what was a dark game…?

"What would happen if I was to forfeit?" she asked finally.

The man regarded her for a long moment. "Your soul," he said simply.

It was strange to know that all color had drained from her face without a mirror.

"I guess I won't be forfeiting then." She tried --tried very hard-- to tell herself the man was mad, insane, and that she could go right back inside now, to the shining lights, duelists, and be safe, but somewhere, _deep_ inside, she believed him.

The man laughed, but the humor was bitter with sharp edges. "I'm sure. "

She drew, the motions of dueling that had been comfortable and almost mind-numbing becoming razor-clear. The feel of the card protecters' corners pricking against her skin. The way the cards slide against each other. The slight heating of the duel disk against her skin, before the exhaust fan began to whirl.

Five card hand, one card draw, with only forty-eight cards in her deck. Real numbers with finite bounds meant that there were only so many combination she could draw. Nevertheless, each card was an utter blank in her mind until she saw it. She had nearly memorized every detail on each card, already knew the effects and the attacks by heart, but yet she couldn't even think of single card she had that would finish this as fast as she wanted.

Her concentration was fractured. Her mind was split between the useless of her hand, and just what had been implied. _Her soul._ Did he really mean that? Was he just some insane Muggle, with no magic to back that up, or was he something more? Maybe a hacker, the way her duel disk had acted up, that wasn't such an unlikely thought. After all, technology painted with the illusion of magic was a core concept of this game.

She closed her eyes, and tried to think logically, like she was going to write an essay, but found herself unable to calm.

Then, she looked across to her smirking opponent, and drew another card, beginning her turn.

She made sense of the picture first, the light too dim to make out the card's name. It would do for now. Licking her lips, and shooting a quick glance across the field, she sat the card face down in defense mode. Looking at the lone card, she then looked closer at her hand, and chose anther card to add. A specialized trap card, it would be worth nothing this early in the game, but it made her face-down monster look stronger, she thought.

"Turn end," she said softly, her hands barely steady, as she tried to put his words out of her mind.

The white hair man only lightly drew his cards. "I place Headless Knight in attack mode. "

Hermione couldn't hide her wince as he ordered the attack; the Headless Knight's attack points where higher than her first monster, and her monster did not have an effect.

But, she wasn't surprised. The monster had been a sacrifice, to shield her life points until the next turn.

Her eyes closed involuntarily as the Knight charged, but she forced them open just in time to see …. destruction. Her heart caught in her throat, beating too quickly, too hard for her to breath without choking. She could only stare blankly at her cards as the feeling ebbed away.

"Turn end."

She drew, cards almost electric in her hand. It had hurt, hurt like seeing Ron smashed by the queen, in that one game of chess; and she wasn't going to watch it happen again. She hated any sacrifice.

And luck was with her then. "I play the Lost Paladin." She wetted her lips, and ordered the attack, not quite as dramatically as she had the duel before, when she had drawn the card near the end. The Lost Paladin seemed almost misty, when compared to the Knight, it looked less real, as did the destruction of the Knight.

"All you have?" he asked it, as if unconcerned that the first loss of life points had been his.

"This turn," Hermione said, but the words sound weak as she said them. Everything felt off about this game. The man was either a wizard or a muggle with excellent acting skills (and possible derangement), but yet even then, she felt she was missing something.

He made a noise that could have been called a snort if it hadn't been quite so smug, and drew. He slapped a monster down in defense mode, and then another magic card. He ended his turn, not looking at her.

The card could be trap, but it could be a sign of weakness. It was almost the same exact play she had done earlier; a sign of weakness or a strategy.

She felt her own lips twist, into a smile, "Lost Paladin, attack!" she barked, staring resolutely at her opponent, waiting for him to flip a trap card.

He didn't.

The Lost Paladin charged, slashing its sword across the face-down card, and then the monster was revealed.

Hermione bit back a hiss. The monster was Vengeful Wraith; she knew the effects well, having rejected the card for her own deck.

It almost seemed to be looking at her, its white eyes looking everywhere and no where at the same time, and Hermione could swear she could almost hear its shackles clinking, more ominously than the ghoul at the Weasleys had ever managed.

Her opponent flicked his wrist, gesturing towards her Paladin. "Transference," he commanded, activating the card's effect.

The Lost Knight's sword spun, and then stuck at its wielder.

Hermione couldn't stop the gasp. It hurt, again. Not physically, but all the same, it _hurt_, like she'd failed to move her magic right, casting a spell, and got caught in the backlash.

"End turn," she gasped out, not bothering to place down another card. Her trap card was still down. If he sacrificed his monsters, she could use it, but not until then.

His eyes flicked over to her, and then to his newest card. He threw done another monster. "White Thief," he called out, as the monster appeared, a man with a white top-hat and white cloak, "Vengeful Wraith, attack!"

The monsters swarmed in tandem towards her, the Vengeful Wraith's eyes gleaming like winter moons in a clear sky, and the White Thief's cloak billowing behind him, blood-red lining clear to see. The Wraith gathered its hands, holding them close to it's chest, pulling bloody chains away from tattered cloth and tattered flesh.

An instinctive flinch shuddered through her, and she raised her arms, sheltering her face and chest, even as she tried to reason with herself that it was only game, that it wouldn't _really_ hurt.

She failed.

She knew it would hurt, when she saw cards flash and metal glint towards her.

Pain struck her, debilitating her thoughts; she could only sway on her feet. A faintness swept into her heart, a feeling of almost determined resolution. It was almost a familiar feeling, like she would do what she had to despite the pain. But it was fleeting.

The was no _reason_ for this to happen. There was no basilisk around the corner, no Dementors lurking, no danger to Harry that she'd taken upon herself. This was a game, a simple game, nothing more than something she was using as a mean towards an end. And already in Japan, already testing her spells, there was no reason for her to duel more.

But it hurt, hurt all the same, and for all that she berated herself and the game, she wanted to win, desperately, for reasons that she hard knew, let only could out into words.

And then she could breath again, pain disappearing as the monsters sank back to his side of the field. Her arms, for all that they felt like they had been cut with a thousand glass shards a moment before, were unscathed. Her heart was still beating, though faster normal.

Hermione's thoughts cleared.

"This is more than a game," she found herself saying, the words pouring out unbidden. "This has some behind it, something more than muggle--"

"Speak in Japanese, or don't speak at all," he interrupted. "My English is not good."

"Ah," was all she could say, her mind beginning to race. This was an advantage, and she wasn't going to let it go. If she was right (and she was so rarely wrong), than she could need every advantage she had. As much as she wanted to press, ask questions, understand, she needed to wait and win first.

"My turn," she snapped, and drew. She could still win. At 1900 life points, there was a chance, but it was slim. Very slim. If he played one more monster next turn, he would be able to wipe out her life points even if she had a monster defending.

Hermione cocked her head as thought occurred to her. Both Vengeful Wraith and White Thief had low attacks, it was only when they hit her life points it seemed so much. She ran a quick eye over the defense of the two monsters in her hand. Rushkla was enough. Decision made, she pressed down the card, not yet ready to push her luck further. The card was face down defense mode, and hopefully between it and her trap card, she'd survive another turn.

She stared at her opponent, waiting for him to take his turn without her prompting.

In the dim light, she could see his eyes narrow. Without further waiting, he drew, his fingers slipping the card into his hand, and teasing out another.

It was another monster, but this one he left face down in defense mode. A small victory Hermione thought, but it now seemed sure she would survive this turn.

"Vengeful Wraith," he commanded, "Attack, Unbroken Chain Strike!"

Hermione stared impassively, taking in all the details. Vengeful Wraith struck, its movements jerky, but almost livingly fluid, all the same. Her Rushkla explode up out of the card, blocking the chains with reed-thin, almost misty arms that seemed surreal.

Hermione noted that her oppenent flinched, as the difference between the Vengeful Wraith's attack points and the Rushkla's defense was subtracted.

This all went both ways, didn't it? All but her attacks, and she was beginning to understand why, though she tried to keep the knowledge in the furtherest corner of her mind. It was easiest that way, things weren't right yet.

He glared at her, and then placed another magic card down.

Hermione licked her lips. "My turn," she whispered. She drew quickly. It was another magic card, a power up she couldn't use yet, but it didn't change her plans.

"I sacrifice Rushkla to call forth Swan Warrior," she yelled, raising the card high above her head. She had no room to feel ridiculous, desperately calling forth every detail of feathered armor and imagining how darting the movements would be.

Hermione breathed, not quiet knowing why she suddenly needed too, and wrenched open her eyes.

The Swan Warrior stood, with the stillness of predator, sighting its prey. The glinting spear point was pointed unerringly at her opponent, and every muscle was taunt, more defined than she had thought it would be. Hermione's breath caught, as the gaze switched from Bakura to her. In a brief she saw all too human expressions on the monster, before eyes flickered back to opponent.

_More than just game..._ The thought echoed through her mind, as her lips firmed into a not-quite frown.

Her opponent hissed a unfamiliar word, something with too many constants to be Japanese.

Curiosity broke through. "What does that mean?"

Her opponent looked at her, eyes shadowed for a long moment before looking away. "Caller of Spirit-Souls," he finally said. "Roughly. It has been a long time since I've seen a truly new one."

The way he said _new_ made Hermione wonder. There was trapped, pent up emotion, nearly boiling over in the hidden meaning of the word, but she couldn't figure out what it was.

But what he had said was enough.

"I'm a _witch_," she said quietly, using the English word, wanting no confusion. As curious and interesting as the other word sounded, she knew she was a witch and best in her year at that. She was not going to let anyone try to say she was something else. Be this man muggle or magical, it was past time for her to end this. Steady thoughts calming her, she looked again to the still disquieting Swan Warrior.

In eyes that were too large, too darkly _real_, she saw the same conviction reflected back, with less hesitation, and more knowledge. The Swan Warrior, sharply nodded, and the grip on the spear changed.

"Swan Warrior, attack the face down monster!"

The spear cut clean through the card, and the squat lizard that appeared a second later, and dissipated in a shower of sparks. A heartbeat later, the Swan Warrior was wreathed in lightening, doubled over.

A cruel chuckle floated over. "Electric Lizard's special ability. Your monster can't attack next turn."

Hermione hissed, and slammed down the power-up card she had just drawn onto the magic field, not willing to end her turn on his terms.

He drew, and again, his eyes flickered over to her, cooly assessing. Early amusement was gone, the righteous expression had faded, and all that was left was a calculating look that was almost desperate in its intensity. "I play Change of Heart."

A fay being appeared, and with a cool, uncaring look, charged towards Swan Warrior. It didn't stop as it collided with Swan Warrior, but instead blurred.

Swan Warrior, with the face of the other being pivoted towards her.

Her breath caught, as she tried to tally life points in her mind. All it would take...

White hair flashed as he tossed his head. "Swan Warrior--"

And her opponent crumpled in on himself.

Sounds that had retreated, car horns, city birds, the constant murmur of crowded human life came in a rush of noise as the boy _gasped, _his face twisting into a much more human expression of pain. The shadows suddenly seemed sharper, more defined and real. The all encompassing darkness that had slowly come disappeared.

"Go," he gasped out. "Run!"

"But--" Hermione began.

"Find Yuugi-- "Another gasp, this one higher. "Just _tell_ him."

She started towards him, as the vestiges of the duel disappeared.

"Leave!" he shouted again, beseeching her, as his hand convulsed over his chest.

A chill stole over Hermione as she turned, ran, and tore open the door into the hotel. Hard won knowledge ran through her mind. Duel Monsters was a game that was more than just game, and she had a term to put to it now.

A dark game.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo


	9. Chapter 9

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter Nine: Fleeing Forward

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It was simple to move her legs. Hermione was used to running while her mind was lost in thought. She had moved through the first part of the summer in a desperate haze, when all but her spell creation had been a distraction, nothing but her goal had mattered.

But ever since she saw the cards come to life, the lingering drive had been shaken off. What she had played had not been a game with highly advance technology, but a foreign, dangerous magic.

It was easy, easier than Hermione would admit to run away. The plea still rang in her ear, giving her some faint justification. "_Find Yuugi_."

There was only one Yuugi that he could of meant, she decided. Yuugi Mutou, the king of games.

She was beginning to think that the title she had first thought to be a publicity stunt by the creator of Duel Monsters had a deeper meaning. The game did, so why not the master of it?

A shiver worked down her spine and she stepped again into the grand ballroom, where the unofficial tournament had begun. Duelists now littered the dance floor and the chandeliers where blocked from sight by hovering monsters, waiting for commands.

Taking a tighter reign on her emotions, she looked for Mai or Kajiki. When she had dueled Kajiki early, he had told her that Yuugi was holed up in a room with other duelists. It was possible that he knew where. If she saw Mai, she could ask her as well.

A feminine cry cut just above the roar of the crowd and Hermione concentrated on it. Threading her way through the crowd, she lost the sounds of Mai yelling several times, but found it again. She dashed though duels, ducking under monsters, as she told herself that they weren't real, that her duel hadn't been the same as these. However, she did not try to pass though any monster.

She found Mai dueling someone she thought she should recognize from the magazines she had read in England, but she couldn't put a name to the face.

Mai waved at her absently, before sending in her Harpy Lady to attack her opponent's life points directly.

Her opponent hissed an insult at her and drew, but Hermione could see who the duel was favoring very easily. Mai needed only to attack one more time--

--Or use a trap card to reflect his attack right back, as she just had, to win.

Mai looked like she was about to say something to her opponent, before she saw Hermione's face. Abruptly, she waved away him away and took Hermione's arm, tugging her to the door.

"I--"

"Not here!" Mai hissed, in English, a plastic smile firmly in place. "Wait."

Hermione blinked at the change, but the memory of a sharp cry haunted her. "I need to find Yuugi."

Mai stilled and turned to face Hermione. Her eyes bored into hers and then, as Hermione fidgeted, she looked away, even as her grip tightened.

Hermione barley made out a low, shaky sigh over the din and she wondered what Mai had seen.

"Not here," Mai repeated again in English.

Hermione now nearly had to run to keep up with Mai's pace. She stumbled several times with Mai's hand was still wrapped tightly around her wrist, dragging her forwards. It was a desperate pace, but Mai's lips were thin and the faint blush on her cheeks looked fake, like a bad make-up job; Hermione realized how pale Mai had turned.

The empty elevators were a welcome sight to both of them.

"Talk."

The command was in Japanese, Hermione was almost relieved to note, even as she struggled with grammar in her mind.

"I dueled someone," Hermione paused as they passed a floor, mind racing as she tried to figure out what to say. "I... he acted very odd, especially near the end. He told me to tell Yuugi, so I will." She met Mai's eyes, challenging her to say something more. Anything could become her next hint now. All she knew of Yuugi Mutou was from articles in a magazine. Experience had already taught her just how truthful journalist were.

But Mai remained silent.

The ding of elevator doors opening startled both of them, but Mai stepped out and Hermione followed. The elevator closed and Mai stopped.

"Do you remember the room number?" asked Hermione, when she move again after a moment.

"Yes," Mai finally said. "It's six-twelve."

Hermione looked to the plaque on the wall. Left then, she saw. "Are you coming?"

"I'm debating," Mai said at last. There was something almost broken in her eyes, a far cry from the steely determination Hermione had seen before, from the woman who wanted her as a rival. Mai then blinked and it was lost as she raised her chin. "Come on, let's go."

Hermione trailed after her, the only noise in the hallway was their footsteps, hers in sneakers, barely making any noise and Mai's heels resolute clicking on the hard floor.

There was no sound leaking around the door to room six hundred twelve, nor any sign that anyone was awake, but Mai knocked on the door anyway, rapping harshly until it opened.

A young woman stood at the door, her pajamas rumpled and her stick-straight hair falling at odd angles away from her face. "Mai? What are you doing here" she asked tiredly, coming out into the hall, leaving the door only cracked behind her.

"It's Mai?" Another person asked, still within the darkened room.

Their greeter turned to open the door further and whispered confirmation.

A few rustles later, Yuugi Mutou stepped into the corridor, closing the door behind him. The other woman began to protest, but when he held up a card key, she fell silent.

Hermione seized on their distraction to study Yuugi. He was shorter than he had looked in the photos, much like Harry had been. His hair _really was_ like it looked in the pictures, though some strands were out of place. Also, the gold pendant that he had worn in all the pictures was around his neck, even though he was in sleep clothes.

He seemed to sense her curiousness and meet her gaze, smiling.

"So," said the woman, "What's going on? And your friend, Mai?" Her yawn belied the almost snappish tone of the question and she looked sheepish as she punctuated the sentence with the yawn.

"This is Hermione Granger and she says she needs to talk to Yuugi," Mai said.

Hermione nodded her head awkwardly in greeting, trying to remember if she was supposed to bow according to Japanese custom or not, before deciding that manners went out the window this late at night. "We should probably go in. This isn't something that should be talked about in the halls," she finished, trying not to blush at how melodramatic it had come out.

"Are the others here?" Mai asked quietly as Yuugi slipped in the key card

"Yeah. Jounochi said he saw you earlier. He and Honda finally dropped off about an hour ago."

"And Kaiba?"

Yuugi looked at Mai and then Hermione as he opened the door. "He payed for the room."

"Oh."

The statement obviously meant more to Mai then her, but Hermione could not understand the full importance. Footing the bill probably_ did_ confirm that Kaiba was here, though the undercut in Mai's tone suggested it meant a lot.

In one of the two beds, Hermione heard a low groan as light from the hallway spilled into the room. A vague silhouette rolled of the bed and stood, as the young woman turned on a light. In the dimness, she faintly made out the person who had greeted Mai before --Jounochi, she realized faintly.

Another lump in the bed moved, tugging the abandoned covers over and then rolling over to hog the bed, which in comparison to the almost made bed, was a mess of tangled sheets and tossed pillows.

Hermione stopped herself from dissecting the sleeping habits of the four in the room. She knew herself well enough to realize it was another distraction technique, letting her mind float in useless information to ignore terror.

"Yuugi, right?" she forced herself to say.

Yuugi nodded.

"I was dueling earlier. It was this guy, about your age... He talked of many strange things," she temporized quietly, not really sure of she should and shouldn't say. The Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was international. "In the end, he told me to find you and tell you."

"Tell Yuugi what?" asked Jounochi.

"Just to tell him. He never said what and since he was in great deal of pain, I didn't ask more. He told me to run." She debated letting the unspoken assumptions to grow further and then decided against it. An informed decision could only be made with all information available. "It was like he had been possessed before."

Mai froze at her side, unnatural stillness tightly controlled.

Hermione's eye narrowed and she glanced at the others. Mai _knew_. There was no denying her reactions had been almost frightening in their intensity and that seemed to be the most logical explanation.

Yuugi bit his lipped, looking pained, as the woman wrapped an arm around one of his shoulders.

The lump in the bed moved and sat up.

"Honda--" hissed Jounochi, in a hurried whisper, obviously not meant to be overheard by her, "Bakura hasn't said anything, has he?"

The blanket cocoon shook its head.

Hermione couldn't help but stare at the point of hair sticking out.

"White hair?"

Hermione blinked at the question and forced her gaze away from Honda's hair, onto his worried face. A flash of memory, the whispered promise that she would duel him, the smirk, and the bone-white hair. "Yes."

A soft string of curses was all the warning Hermione had before she was nearly tackled as Jounochi dived for his shoes. He jammed his foot into one as he tried to tie the other.

"Where is he?" asked Yuugi, uncanny eyes pinning her.

"Last I saw, he was outside, a back entrance of the grand ballroom."

Yuugi nodded. "Good enough, we can start there. Anzu, get Kaiba up. Bakura might know something."

Anzu nodded sharply and left the room at a near run, shoes dangling from one hand.

Tugging absently at her hair in thought, Hermione watched Yuugi. He gave the orders so easily, not seeming to worry about the feelings of his friends, like she might or Harry had, but fully expecting them to obey. However, oddly enough, Anzu moved, without a question or a backwards glance.

Yuugi took a duel disk from the table and slid it on, letting it warm up as he put on black boots with too many buckles, that only shared an unrepentant black color scheme with his pajamas, with no other dress-sense coordination.

As Yuugi moved away, Jounochi snatched his duel disk and slipped it on, He booted it up and placed the deck in it. All he needed was a challenge, he was ready to duel.

The movements looked easy and fluid to Hermione, motions that had been repeated again and again until they were second nature. There was purpose and meaning in each muscle and not a gesture was wasted, unlike her own fumbling.

They put on duel disks like with same ease and familiarity as she drew her wand.

Hermione swallowed her words before they could begin, wishing for a second that Ron was behind her and that she felt she could ask. But there was a jumble of emotions that told her not to and at the center of the tangle, worming around all the others, was fear.

A deep breath in, a deep breath out, and Hermione straightened, as she heard pounding at the door.

A muffled voice came through a second later, "Back."

Honda, who had just finished, dressing stood and opened the door.

Anzu came back in and just at her heels, almost stepping on her in haste was another man, in a long trench coat, with wrinkled pants. A stern, ice gaze swept through the room, to settle on Yuugi.

"Well?" Kaiba demanded.

"Bakura's show up and seems to be up to his usual tricks," Honda said quickly. "He was up to his neck in things in Battle City, he might..." he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"He might have kidnapped him himself, you mean?" snapped Kaiba.

To his credit, Honda nodded firmly, but there was something almost pleading in the tilt of his eyebrows. "Yes."

"And her?"

Hermione drew herself up. "I brought the information here on a request," she said simply, trying to figure out the latest arrival.

_Kidnapping, well... that puts a whole new spin on things_, she thought, biting her lip. Cold eyes met hers, burning with determination, but dark circles underneath showed tiredness that the rest of his body didn't.

Hermione kept eye contact with him, until he broke it off, to turn to Yuugi again. She let him judge her, as she tried to glean more, as almost invisible emotions flickered across his face.

"Where?"

"Near the ballroom Granger--" Yuugi began.

"Hermione," she interrupted, testing, watching Kaiba's expression carefully. And, yes there it was, instead of irritation at the interruption, there was a flash smugness as he knew her full name.

"Hermione said," Yuugi finished.

Kaiba nodded sharply and stalked to the door. It banged on the door stop, after he yanked it open, the metal letting out a pealing ring.

Choices raced through her mind, but Yuugi made it for her.

"We're coming," was his unadorned announcement, with slight arrogance and challenge to it.

Kaiba was silent, already striding to the elevators.

They followed, Yuugi almost running to keep up on short legs and Hermione knew how odd a group they must seem. Jounochi had yet to put on his shirt, but his duel disk was on. Anzu was wearing heels and pajamas and Yuugi's clothes and shoes were equally at odds. Mai trailed behind, looking more like she was dressed to cruise bars, rather then the almost slumber party look of the rest.

Hermione put a hand to her own hair and knew it was a fright.

Of the two elevators serving the hotel, only one was working. The other had been out of order since Hermione had arrived at the hotel. It was on the the tenth floor, according to the dial above the elevator and still moving upwards.

"I need to be off now," Mai said quietly. "I'm pretty sure that I might have been put into one of the first duels. It's almost two now. I should rest."

Her announcement was met with quiet acceptance, but Hermione saw the look of disdain smothering desperation that Kaiba shot her, the pleading, but resigned eyes Jounochi had.

"Hermione?" Mai asked.

Mai was giving her the perfect out, not leaving her with the strangers Hermione barely knew. If she wanted, Hermione could leave. She could not follow and find out what was going on. She wouldn't find out why the others were so jumpy and why she had the feeling that they were more than just Muggles.

"I'm fine."

Mai pursed her lips.

"I'm sure."

"Catch you later," Mai said, after taking a deep breath and giving her a crooked smile. "Remember, I'm still waiting for your answer."

Hermione gave her a smile she was sure was just as crooked, "I know."

Mai waved. "I'll see you all tomorrow." She turned and went to the stairwell entry. With a flash of blonde hair, she was gone. The clicking of her heels faded long before the elevator arrived.

The almost expected feeling of loneliness welled up as she stepped in after the others, chased by barely acknowledged fear, but Hermione forced it down with her usual fervor. She was a Gryffindor; she would not let her fear dictate her.

...Even if she did feel like a purebred dog that had just been dropped in among wolves.

Why didn't Hogwarts have a class on _this_?

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo


	10. Chapter 10

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Chapter Ten: Nerves

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

She looked nervous, Jounochi decided finally.

Her hands twisted together, like she was trying to feel for something that wasn't there. She had almost said something to them before the elevator had arrived; she'd bit her lip, opened her mouth, and closed it quickly enough for her teeth to clink.

Not that Jounochi could blame her. Kaiba's scowl was enough put anyone off.

The possibility of Bakura down there, the spirit of the Ring responsible for Mokuba's kidnapping... Well, it made him very glad he'd made Shizuka stay home.

And the real kicker, Jounochi felt, was that for all he had checked, for that he had gained assurances that the Ring's spirit wasn't in control, it still hadn't been Bakura Ryou that he had talked to earlier. Oh, the mannerisms had matched perfectly, head ducked embarrassment, a shy smile, and then amusement at some of his jokes, but that hadn't been him. Bakura would have warned him. The person he had talked to hadn't. Therefore, for all the shared mannerisms and acting, he hadn't been talking to the real Bakura.

Which _really_ made him wonder just how often he had been.

The elevator dinged, its doors parting. The man that had gotten in two floors after them practically ran, escaping.

"How are you planing to deal with him?" Hermione asked abruptly. "I'm getting the impression that this is something normal for him."

"We've had to do this before," Honda said quietly.

"Do _what_?" Hermione pressed, stepping between the doors, blocking exit from the elevator.

"Break him out of it," Jounochi said, before Yami could say something. She looked nervous enough as was, she would probably run if they started explaining the Shadow Realm aspect to her.

Or Kaiba would. His patience for anything that would not lead to Mokuba had been severely shortened, something that Jounochi hadn't even thought possible.

"Don't shut me out of this," Hermione begged. "I'm coming along to _help_, not hinder. I want to be sure that you can handle this. You--"

If _they_ could handle this? Jounochi felt something niggle at the back of his brain, something in the way she hadn't turned into a gibbering mess after meeting the other side of Bakura--

"I can," Yami said, breaking through her tirade and shattering Jounochi's thoughts, "We can. As you must have gathered, this isn't the first time for any of this."

"It depends on Bakura," Anzu added. "We have to see which one is out there. Now, please."

Jounochi briefly saw Hermione's face, before she turned away, and saw the almost frozen look of remembered pain.

OoO

Hermione still wanted her wand, but delaying could cost more than she wanted.

_Possession. _

The memory of great yellow eyes haunted her.

If she had been a few minutes faster, a little more smarter, she could have skipped her months of petrification. Ginny wouldn't have nearly died because of her. The torn page, a last-stop gap had still taken too long to be found.

Yes, she thought, years old bitterness rising in her, she could understand their urgency.

With a deep breath, she dismissed the past. These were muggles, with technology, not the same as what had happened to Ginny. "Come on."

She led them down the hallways twisting away from the main entrance, and followed the exit signs, until she saw the same door that she faintly remembered by virtue of being to the left of particularly hideously painting.

They had been silently following her, and even their foot steps had been muffled.

"Here," she whispered and watched.

Yuugi and Kaiba sized each other up, clearly silently arguing who should go first, before Honda worrying his lip, ignored them, opening the door, and stepping out into the humid air.

Hermione followed, wishing for her wand, even as she took her deck out of her duel disk in a belated remembrance of the what had been said before. If wearing the duel disk was enough to be challenged, she wasn't going to make it easy to start a duel. What she really wanted to do was to take it off, but she could find no where to put it safely.

"Bakura?" Honda yelled, as Jounochi winced, and began to glance around furiously, like a deer that had heard a brach crack.

"Over here," the answer floated back, and Hermione glanced around, until she saw in the shadows her once opponent, arms and legs wrapped around a tree that was mostly hidden by an overgrown, ill-trimmed bush.

Honda bolted to him, a hand flashing to the back of Bakura's collar.

"_Don't!_" Bakura cried, arms claps at his chest, and the other against the nape of his neck. He stepped away from the tree, though one arm was left around it loosely, like he seemed to expect to be blown away, and needed an anchor.

"The Ring--" Honda began insistently.

"You can't."

"How many had he played already tonight?" Honda bit out harshly.

Bakura glared, and then in a fluid motion bunched his t-shirt up, exposing his chest.

Embedded in his chest was a object, with over a handful of points deeper in the chest, skin covering them completely.

Anzu gasped behind her, and Jounochi cursed.

"It won't come out." Bakura said, almost gently. "I've tried before. If you think you have gotten it, it's probably just an illusion."

Honda said something, but Hermione couldn't make out the words, but the tone was low and dark enough that she was sure it was cursing.

Her own thoughts swirled, taking in new variables to her hypothesis.

"And Mokuba?" said Kaiba, his hand clenching and unclenching with almost mechanically. Rhythmically, like he was holding a beating heart, Hermione decided morbidly.

"Mokuba?" asked Bakura, eyebrows drawing together, and then smoothing with comprehension. "This was more or less a strike of opportunity. I don't anything about what's happened to your brother.

"More or less?" Kaiba asked sharply.

"He saw something that he was very interested in..." Bakura's eyes drifted to Hermione.

She meet his gaze. This was the person that saved her, and not the one who fought her, but the body was the same.

"Who is he?" she found herself saying, mouth ahead of her thoughts, as she tried to sew together the scraps of information that she had.

A heartbeat's pause.

Yuugi shifted, as if almost uncomfortable, almost like he was shamed by failure, while Honda looked away, clenching his fists. Kaiba seemed to twitch slightly, and then his eyes slid away, as if he was completely uninterested in the proceedings.

"The other me," Bakura said, not quite gently.

"But who _is _he?" she pressed.

Bakura looked away, "A separate part of my soul. I am not him and he is not me, but we have the same soul."

A soul, Hermione thought absently, was unproven, but completely with Arithmatical bounds. That had been a paper topic assigned by Professor Vector two falls ago, before the Tri-Wizard Tournament had begun. In more classical magic, it existed without question, proven. She'd written about three feet on it, when they'd study Dementors.

Schoolwork that couldn't answer her question, even as she ran through the possibilities in her mind. Separate personalities looked likely, for all but the _thing_ embedded in his chest.

It glinted in the dimness, even as she looked, as though it sensed her gaze. It's presence of _that_ changed everything. The way it buried under his skin, made her want to scream dark magic.

A movement just above, and Hermione's gaze went from his chest to his mouth. His lips silently formed words.

"Are you talking to him now?"

His lips twisted into the familiar smirk she had seen less than an hour before across the playing field. "Not quiet." Even the way he spoke had changed, hesitance disappearing.

"Enough," Yuugi said sharply.

And then Bakura was back, looking at him with fear-filled, pleading eyes. "He doesn't feel like faking defeat tonight."

"Faking defeat?" repeated Yuugi, voice growing darker and greatly offended.

Bakura sighed, rolling his neck back to look above. "Yes, faking," he snapped. "I don't even pretend to understand him, but he's playing a deep game here." He looked like he wanted to say more, but the light in his eyes shifted to something different, almost bloodthirsty.

There was moment of silence and Hermione watched the look fade, and wondered just who else had seen it. Bakura only blinked as he seemed to shift back to the second one she had seen, fear still clear in his eyes, and perhaps a touch of guilt.

A moments later, Anzu spotted someone and hurried them back upstairs, though Hermione didn't catch the name, to busy trying to figure out what Bakura --both of them-- were trying to do.

OoO

She went back to there room with them, trailing behind, watching Kaiba's purposeful stride matched by Yuugi's. Honda supported Bakura, half dragging him along, with both Anzu hovering and Jounochi looking watchful.

Not quite sure if following them back was such a good idea, she waited until they were back in the room.

"There are people who could help you," she finally said, shutting the door behind her.

"What?" asked Jounochi.

Hermione licked her lips, as Bakura was sat down on one of the beds, and Kaiba stared at her as though she was a particularly interesting stain.

"There's a magical government." The weight on shoulders both lightened and pinned her down further. The penalty for needlessly revealing the magical world to muggles was high, no matter the country. "There's law enforcement. Dark magical artifacts are not supposed to be easy to obtain for a wizard, let alone a non-magical person."

"_Please, _explain further," Anzu bit out, while the others only looked at her, perhaps a touch blankly.

"Something slipped through. Bakura, you shouldn't have gotten that object."

Bakura's bark of of laughter was disbelieving and bitter.

"This is real. I'm a witch. I can contact the Japanese wizards."

"...And what will you do about Bakura's... item?" asked Yuugi.

Hermione looked at him, and then looked at his puzzle.

Another set of pieces coalesced into place. The physical changes that could have _almost_ been explained away by posture. The more challenging way he held himself than earlier that night. The deep concern over the existence over the other Bakura coupled with almost a sense of change.

"You're like him."

"In a basic sense, yes," the other Yuugi said.

Eyes drifted close, and his head bowed. Then, someone else was looking out of the eyes.

"The other me is very different from the other Bakura," said Yuugi. "Our relationship is much closer."

Another change, more sudden than the last. Hermione could only tell because the conciliatory pose melted away and eyes narrowed in sharp appraisal.

"It would not be wise to try to separate us."

"There are laws," Hermione began, even though she could already hear what Harry and Ron would be saying now.

"We _belong_ together," said the other Yuugi, and his stance changed.

"We're are the same soul," added Yuugi.

"And Bakura?" she asked.

Bakura looked at her from the bed. "The other side of me... is tricky." The wildness in his eyes had died, and a more quiet, resolved strength was there. "I'm going to go take a shower, if you don't mind."

Hermione blinked, confused by the non-sequitur.

"Decide what you will," he said to Yuugi, hand going to his chest. A few seconds later, the bathroom door slammed shut and the shower started.

Honda sighed the first to break the silence in the room. "What are we going to do?" he asked Yuugi.

Yuugi looked at her. "I'm not sure yet."

"Why doesn't Bakura want to be here?" Hermione asked, still looking at the bathroom door.

"The other him could hear us," said Jounochi slowly. "He's getting better at fooling us."

"What would happen if we were to call in these authorities of yours?" asked the other Yuugi, traces of sympathy gone, hard ruthlessness all that remained.

Hermione bet he'd be a Slytherin.

"I'm not sure. I'm from England, not Japan. Laws differ, but... I know that the necklace--"

"The Ring," corrected the other Yuugi.

"It would taken and probably researched and analyzed."

A hand went to the pendant that he wore, that Hermione was beginning to think was part of a larger set. "No. There are others and they have powers too. While Bakura's darker side running free is not a solution, letting someone else mess with the Items could bring even greater disaster."

Hermione wanted to argue the point further. An evil possessing spirit was a matter for the authorities, but then again, so was the Dark Lord.

And she remembered very well just how Fudge had bungled that. Even _Dumbledore_ had made mistakes there. She would be the first to admit that a student who had just sat her OWLs should not be trying to create new spells that would be the first line of defense against a Dark Lord.

"Fine."

"As _enlightening_ as this has been," Kaiba said, sarcasm and irritability clear, "I'm going back to my room."

He was worried, Hermione realized. He looked like he wanted to say more, even if it was just to say that they were all idiots, but he was _worried_. His brother was missing, and he had wasted the last hour chasing after Bakura with them, and then they just sat and talked.

She'd already broken the International Code of Secrecy that night, what was one more violation?

"I can help you find him."

OoO


	11. Chapter 11

Proofread only by me, point out any mistakes you see! Also, tell me if the formatting got screwed up again.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Chapter Eleven: In Which a Spell is Cast

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Kaiba's eyes were icy as she made her pronouncement and his posture shifted into that half-defensive pose Hermione had seen Harry take enough to know that it meant he was paranoid.

"I really can help you find your brother," she repeated.

"And just how would you miraculously know how to find him?" Kaiba said, his words all too clipped.

"Magic," Hermione said.

And then understood his defensiveness as several things clicked into place.

_I'll bet my copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ that his brother has been kidnapped because of those items before. And he's been blackmailed with magic before._

"I don't want anything in return," Hermione said instead of voicing her thoughts.

"Is that so?" Kaiba asked, eyes hooded.

"I know what it's like to lose someone like that, to have no idea where he is." She remembered Harry's panic and how it had become infectious. And how they'd gotten Sirius killed anyway. "I would give a lot for him to be alive today," she finished finally, after the silence had grown strained. Let them think that she had failed to save someone before and this was guilt. It probably wasn't far from the truth. By all rights, she should be reporting the spirits to the Japanese Ministry even now.

She still wasn't sure why she hadn't.

"Magic," Kaiba repeated after a moment.

Something that wasn't quite relief swept over the others but Hermione couldn't understand it. Yuugi looked almost proud.

Does he have trouble accepting help? Hermione wondered.

"Yes. There are spells. I think I should be able to find him, if he's in the country," Hermione said, heart pounding, pushing away the thoughts that crowded into her mind, one after another, like how her own _grandparents_ didn't even know she was a witch. And how just by telling these strangers the truth she was breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, worse than even Harry had last year. She could have her wand snapped over this.

She ignored her misgivings.

"Do you want me to?" she asked.

He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw his eyebrows knit together in worry, a tension fade from his shoulders. Then, he blinked and all emotion was lost.

Hermione resisted the urge to twist her fingers on the hem of her shirt.

"Let's see if this produces results," he said, tone stilted and words formally polite.

There was something that could have been a long sigh or a gasp from where Jounochi and Yuugi were sitting, but Hermione didn't look to check, not willing to let her focus slip.

"I'll need my wand. I left it in my room."

"Wand," repeated Jounochi.

"As in a stick?" Yuugi asked, even as Kaiba looked more displeased.

"Yes. I can't do any proper magic without it."

The paranoia seemed catching. It occurred to her as she spoke that revealing a weakness like that might have been a bad idea.

"How would this work?" Jounochi asked.

Kaiba was still looking at her with that inscrutable look on his face, like he'd just sucked on a lemon but couldn't figure out if he thought that the taste was too sour or not.

"It's a pretty simple spell. The wand will point in the direction that the target is, and I'll typical have an idea how close it is, though I can't pinpoint the distance."

Anzu shook herself. "A wand? I suppose that makes as much sense as anything. You are from Britain."

"Most wizards use wands," Hermione said, uncomfortably. There had to have been a better way for her to have put that.

"Well," Anzu said, seeming to not pick up on her discomfort, "I suppose we'd better get it."

"Yeah," Jounochi said, bounding up from the bed. "Find the kidnapper, kick his--"

"Be fully dressed," Kaiba interrupted. "I will be calling the police and pressing charges. You will not make it look like I just came from a slumber party."

"It's past midnight," Yuugi pointed out. "I'm sure it will be fine."

Kaiba's glare cut off the rest of Yuugi's train of thought. As the others suddenly began to rifle though suitcases, Hermione was just grateful she was still dressed, even if she was getting the sinking feeling that she looked rather rumpled after the plane trip and then the surprise duels.

"It might be better if I stay here with Bakura," Honda said slowly, pausing as he unzipped his suitcase. "Just in case. The last thing we need is him running around again."

"Good point," Jounochi conceded as he shrugged on a shirt. "I'd love to have you at my back, man. But..."

"Yeah," Honda agreed. "But you're calling the police. You won't need to beat him up."

Hermione tried not think on the implications of the exchange and failed.

Another moment passed in silence, as the others threw on clothes, with no modesty, though Anzu had her back to all of them as she quickly slipped a skirt on over her pants before slipping the pants down.

Across from her, Kaiba seemed disinterested, but Hermione took heart in that his mostly defensive posture had vanished. Hopefully that meant he wasn't as moody as Harry had been the year before.

His eyes flickered over all of them, and he nodded brusquely, leading them out the door.

"Good luck," Honda called as they left.

Hermione noticed the shower had stopped running and was disquieted to realize that she didn't know when it had stopped running. She was pretty sure that it had been running when she had first offered her help, but beyond that, she didn't know.

Honda may have chosen the toughest job of them all.

"Good luck to you too," she offered instead of her apprehensions.  
The hallway was deserted and the elevator opened within seconds of the down button being pressed.

"Have you... always been a witch?" Anzu said awkwardly as they crowded into the elevator.

Hermione appreciated the attempt to break the silence.

"Yeah, but I didn't know until I was eleven. I thought that a lot of strange things just happened to happen around me."

"Strange things?" Anzu asked, as it became clear that no one else would.

"Like flowers blooming out of seasons or the old vase I broke being good as new the next day." Hermione shrugged. There had been bigger things too, but it was best not to mention those.

"Oh."

The elevator dinged.

"My floor," Hermione said unnecessarily, feeling in her pocket for the key.

She only fumbled once as she opened the door, and she tried to ignore the mess she had made. At least she hadn't unpacked anything more than her Arithmancy supplies and her carry on.

Her wand sat on the desk by them and she seized it, breathing a deep sigh of relief as she felt its warmth in her hands. She didn't think she'd been more relieved to have it back in her hand since she'd found it at Ollivanders. No. Not true. Since she'd held it for the first time in the Infirmary in Hogwarts, after the disaster at the Department of Mysteries.

All too aware of the eyes on here, she whispered the spell, "_Reperio_ Mokuba Kaiba."

The wand spun in her hand.

Hermione frowned.

"What does that mean?" Anzu asked carefully.

"_Reperio_ Anzu," Hermione said.

The wand pun in a half circle to point at Anzu, who looked at it askance.

"_Reperio_ London."

The wand spun again to downwards. Still correct. It going in a straight line between the two points, just taking the shortest distance between them.

"_Reperio_ Hogwarts," she said, with deep dread.

The wand spun aimlessly.

So she was right.

"What does that mean?" Kaiba asked sharply.

"It means that your brother is being hidden by magic," Hermione admitted.

Kaiba looked at her, and then to her wand, seeming to weigh the worth of her words. His posture was turning more closed again.

"By who?" Jounochi asked.

"I don't know," Hermione admittedly shakily, as a thought occurred to her. "You haven't made any enemies in Britain, have you?"

"No," Kaiba said flatly.

Hermione breathed a sigh. At least it wasn't Voldemort, even if that did present another problem...

"I honestly don't know who it could be."

"Then this was useless," Kaiba snapped.

"No. It wasn't," Hermione replied with equal displeasure. "Now we know magic is involved. And I can create a spell that should get past most confusion charms."

At least, she was fairly certain she could. There were spells she'd read about that she knew could, but the wand movements had never been depicted clearly enough for her to try. It was also a practical spell to add to her repertoire, even if the slight ache between her eyes was already setting in.

True doubt hit her a moment later. She knew of attempts before to make an all-purpose finding spell had failed, she'd talked about them with Neville. While she was the brightest witch in the year, this was something that had failed for decades.

...But what she said was true. As long as it got past whatever was hiding Mokuba Kaiba, she'd find him. There was no need for perfection, just results.

Hermione took a piece of parchment out and began to rapidly scribble down the bare bones of what her spell needed to do. Then, she began to outline her equations.

Jounochi wandered around the room to look out the window while Yuugi and Anzu leaned against her bed, talking in whispers that were easy enough to ignore.

Mintues ticked by as she swept her pen across the parchment, beginning to see the curve of the spell, but Kaiba still looked over her shoulders, and she shifted uncomfortably as she scratched out the last of the equations.

"That looks like calculus," he said at last, with something that could have been grudging admiration in his tone.

"It is," Hermione said, considering the variables again and changing the parameters slightly. "The limits behave differently though and infinity is a very bad thing to put in."

She frowned, and then began to solve equations.

"I have a faster way," Kaiba said after a moment. "As long as this behaves like calculus, that is."

Hermione looked over the paper and then finally shook her head. "I'm not sure how well that would work. It's like calculus, but it's not the same at all."

Kaiba cocked an eyebrow questioningly, and Hermione was struck by how much more reasonable he had become once he had a problem shown to him. Tangible proof helped him, she guessed.

Or maybe it was just the hope of being able to find his brother.

Slowly, as she continued to work through the framework of the spell, solving the problems and then rearranging them when they didn't match, she explained the basics of Arithmancy. She felt like she was condensing it too much, but Kaiba still seemed to be understanding what she was saying, and within half an hour, her pen stilled as she pulled out her number charts and Kaiba sent Yuugi back to his room to fetch his laptop.

Hermione was still doubtful, but... she knew what a difference a simple calculator made doing long division or multiplication. Even if she had to do have the problems the old fashion way, it could shave off half the time.

And if worked, really worked the way Kaiba was confident it would, then coming to Japan may have been one of her best choices since lying to Professor McGonagall in first year about the troll.

Across the table, Kaiba's eyes reflected the same excited shine of challenge being so closed to solved, and Hermione found herself smiling.

She wasn't sure he noticed, but an answering smile flashed across Kaiba's face.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_So, maybe, just maybe Yuugi has a point,_ Seto conceded as he let Hermione enter in the numbers, equations and variables on his laptop.

Looking at the complex charts she'd pulled out, he had to admit he'd started developing the holograms on far less proof. If this was showing the core concepts of magic, then denying it would be like denying gravity. His head still spun, and he still wasn't sure that there wasn't some type of fundamental flaw, some loop-hole that made too many things possible, like in string theory, but it seemed too real.

And the way Hermione spoke about it, he knew that there was even more she hadn't explained, further complexities present. She had managed to walk him through the bare basics as she had worked, but her attention had obviously been split and finishing the equations (he still couldn't bring himself to call it a spell) took first priority.

And Seto approved of that completely. Her priorities were straight. She explained enough that he felt he could trust the numbers and, to an extent, her. If she had applied for a job, he would have hired her on the spot and promised all the funding she could want.

"I think this is good," she said suddenly, and then said something quickly. A sheet of paper floated over.

He tried not to react, though he noticed the mutt staring at it, slack-jawed.

"Everything looks in place," Hermione continued.

"Now?" he asked, and tried to relax even as he felt the tension wind tighter and tighter around him.

"Almost." She took a long, slim box from the side of the table turned desk and drew out a feather.

No, a quill, he could see the tip of it and the small bottle of dark ink.

She carefully set it to the paper, and began to write. The numbers glittered on the paper as the ink dried and then began to glow a deep orange, as if consumed by an internal flame. Then, they glowed a harsh blue-ish white. Within a matter of minutes, the spell had been copied down, the work of nearly an hour condensed to dozen or so lines of numbers and symbols.

"Is that it?" asked Jounochi. "Now we just use the paper and find him?"

"No, that was making sure that I hadn't made a fatal flaw in design," Hermione said. "Like somehow including an infinity. It's just showing that I didn't put in something that makes it easy to die of magical exhaustion."

"Die?" Anzu repeated.

Hermione shrugged, looking highly uncomfortable. "There's a reason most people don't make up spells."

"Oh," Anzu said simply.

Seto barely managed to keep himself from rolling his eyes at her shocked tone. Death was everywhere, even in their decks, even in Yuugi's precious heart of the cards.

"Can you use it now though?" he asked. That was the important thing.

Hermione looked at the spell and licked her lips, she closed her eyes, Seto could see she was trying to study herself.

"Do you trust your work?" he pushed.

"Yes," she said, her eyes opening.

She drew out her wand and waved it a few times, with a handful of sparks showering out on the last pass.

"That's pretty," Anzu whispered to Yuugi.

Yuugi's nod was too short for it to be just him watching, and their eyes connected for a brief second. Seto looked away first.

At least Hermione hadn't said anything about past lives and old loyalties.

The wand swept through the air in a sharp motion and then traced a perfect circle. Hermione said something, but he didn't catch it fully. A glowing pinprick of light appeared, hovering above the wand tip.

"I think it's working..." Hermione said slowly.

"And?" Seto demanded.

"He's above us, in this very hotel."  
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

AN:  
Sorry for the wait, life happened. I'm going to try to have the next chapter up much sooner.

Edited for italics and three typos ~ Feb. 6th, 2010


	12. Chapter 12

OoOoOoOoOoOoO.

Chapter Twelve: The Rakshasa

OoOoOoOoOoOoO.

"That would make sense," Yuugi said, the other Yuugi, Hermione realized.

She still couldn't put her finger on it, but there was a difference between the two of them, for all they shared a body.

"It follows a pattern. They never seem to go far from the games," Kaiba said. There was a lighter quality in his voice, and he almost smiling, but Hermione knew that she wouldn't want to be who ever came between his brother and him. It was like his grin had too many teeth.

"So, we call the police then," Anzu said. "Tell them we got an anonymous tip about your brother."

"No," said Kaiba shortly. "We find Mokuba and then call."

"That sounds like a plan to me," Jounochi said, cracking his knuckles.

"And we might need to call the wizarding police, depending on things," Hermione said slowly. "Magic's involved here."

"We're finding Mokuba before we call anyone," Kaiba said shortly.

"Fine." She was a match for most wizards anyway. With a bit of surprise on her side, she should be able to deal with anyone. Death Eaters weren't feared for nothing and she'd fought them before.

Even if she'd ended up in the Hospital Wing afterwards.

However, she understood Kaiba. He wanted his brother back in his arms before put in yet another uncertainty. The report of Mokuba's first kidnapping had been bungled, according to the magazines and rumors. He had been nearly died when hostage negotiations had broken down, she'd read. It would make sense that Kaiba distrusted the authorities after that.

"I agree," the other Yuugi said. "There's no telling who it could be. Bringing regular police into it might not do anything... and your magical police might not either. It's another kind of magic that we use, right?"

"Yes." And if she didn't call in the Japanese equivalent to the Aurors, she wouldn't have to tell them about the items and spirits. This other Yuugi seemed be in a symbiotic relationship with his host. Was there a reason for her to strip them of that? She could even think of historical benign possession in several instances.

"Which way?" Kaiba asked, stopping Hermione from listing all incidents, to confirm her decision in her mind.

"Up. And probably a little more to the left as well."

"Elevators then," Anzu said. "We can stop at every floor, if we need to. I'm not sure what we can do once we figure out the room though."

"We knock. If they don't answer, we break down the door," Jounochi said simply.

"I'll get the master-key," Kaiba said a moment later. "We need surprise. This isn't going to become a hostage situation."

"I can open it," Hermione interrupted, as she saw Jounochi open his month.

"Magic again?" the other Yuugi asked sardonically.

"Yeah. It can be pretty useful."

"And are there ways around that?" Kaiba asked.

"Possibly, but they aren't common," Hermione said. If they were, she was sure that Dumbledore would have used them on the third floor corridor during her first year.

"And is blocking that first spell you did common?" Anzu asked carefully.

"More so. Half the time you can't even use it find a witch or a wizard. Or anything that's magical, really. It's a rather finicky spell."

"And this one isn't?"

"No, it's sure," Hermione said, looking at the glowing speck that moved with her wand. It was far more elegant and precise than her original idea as well as being far more powerful. Each time Kaiba had used the program on his laptop to solve another equation, another layer of complexity had come to her mind. She hadn't been able to use most off them, a few of them so intricate that she didn't even know how to begin them, but the few she had incorporated had been enough to make her wonder if she had discovered the next wave of improvement in Arithmancy.

But what excited her more was that if that was true, than she really could find a way to help Harry that no one else had. The tweaked spells she had begun with that summer were only the beginning.

Her newest dream was to create a counter for the Unforgivables.

"We'll see when we get there," the other Yuugi said with finality, and drew out his deck. "If we can't get the door open one way, we can use another." He held up a card, some trap that Hermione didn't recognize, but it had a key and a lock on it.

Kaiba snorted, but he didn't gainsay him.

"Good idea. Let's do this," Jounochi said, rolling his shoulders.

Hermione cast one last look around the room. There wasn't anything other than her wand to take. She couldn't put her faith in the cards like the others did and more Arithmancy things would only slow her down.

The same elevator that they had ridden down in opened and Anzu ran her hand down all the buttons for the floors above them.

"Let's do our best," Anzu said as the door closed.

"We'll find him," the other Yuugi said.

Hermione only watched the speck of light on the tip of her wand.

The elevator doors opened. It had leveled out a little more, but it was too far above the tip to be this floor.

Another floor, and it was the same.

"Going up," Anzu murmured as the doors closed.

Two more floors passed.

"It's getting more level," Hermione said as they moved again.

"This floor?" Jounochi said quickly.

"No, next one."

Adrenaline was rushing through her, she could hear her heart beating, but she could feel the trace of a grin on her face, the elation of success still singing to her.

After the longest time between floors yet --or the shortest, time was little funny-- the doors swept open.

The elevator went silent as Hermione stepped out. Left, and then right and she came to the door of a suite. One of the more expensive ones, from the name.

She put her finger to her lips and whispered, "_Alohomora_."

The door opened smoothly, and most importantly, almost silently.

But there was someone standing on the other side, and in her shock, she let Jounochi and Kaiba slip past her, almost protecting her, hiding her.

The man --though Hermione knew he wasn't-- seemed to be an ordinary Japanese business man, suit and tie suitably unremarkable. His face was rather plain and unmemorable. He wasn't short or fat nor tall or thin.

In fact, the only thing that didn't seem normal about him was the multiple arms he seemed to have.

They blurred in and out of sight, no finite number other than many. And Hermione _knew_ what he as soon as she saw them.

He was no man. He was a Rakshasa.

"I wondered if you'd find me before the duels," he said, and the illusion dropped.

He grew into a taller, impossibly thin being, bent double, the ceiling too low for him to stand. All the portions seemed wrong, bones elongated, the neck too long and serpentine. His pale and almost blue face looked nearly human, but for the sharp teeth that were made to eat flesh.

"And you brought a witch, how kind," he said, and his head blurred into three before it settled into one image in front of them, his arms stilled as well, and for a moment he had all the normal amount of appendages.

"Why are you here?" Hermione demanded, trying to think of all the history books she'd read. Had a Rakshasa ever left India before?

"My own reasons," he said. "Leave me to them."

"_Give me my brother,_" Kaiba spoke in a terrible tone, too flat to be angry and despite sounding empty, full of menace.

The Rakshasa looked at Kaiba for a long moment, and then shook his head in an oddly human motion until it blurred.

"Now!" Kaiba demanded.

"No," the Rakshasa said, just as firmly. "You must do something for me first."

"And that would be?" the other Yuugi cut in, and hand fingering his deck.

"Play my games." The Rakshasa sunk back even further, and once his image settled, he was sitting back on his chair, as he had been when they had first come in.

"_Your_ games?" the other Yuugi said, a wealth of dark humor in his voice.

The Rakshasa bared his teeth and Hermione flinched back at seeing the sharp points, her imagination and memory of history books she'd skimmed too sharp. It seemed to appease the Rakshasa, and he settled back into the chair.

"Yes," he said simply.

"Like hell," Kaiba said, and made towards the other door in the suite.

The Rakshasa blurred, and Hermione stepped between Kaiba and him, wand out.

"I wouldn't, if I were you," she said softly, trailing her wand though the air, letting it shoot off all the sparks it could. Spells on the tip of her tongue, she waited for the Rakshasa to make the first move.

In retrospective, she should have known.

As it was, she was caught completely by surprise as one hand with clawed nails grabbed her waist, dragging her forward. The Rakshasa seized her left arm, biting into it just below the shoulder.

Hermione cried out, the teeth felt like liquid fire, and then were gone, along with a mouthful of flesh.

Anzu was screaming in the background, and Yuugi was saying something. So was Kaiba. They were shouting, but the shooting pain in her arm and sudden dizziness like she'd just run three miles, dehydrated, made it impossible to understand.

And then she was surrounded by white wings, even as the pain grew.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO.

She came to with a cool feeling on her burning arm.

Hermione tried to say something, to ask what had happened, but it only came out in a groan.

"Thank goodness."

Hermione blinked, and made out Anzu leaning over her. She licked her lips and tried to speak again.

"Hold on, let me get you some water."

Another moment ticked by, and Hermione took stock while Anzu rustled in the background. Her arm still ached something fierce and when she tried to move it a bolt of pain shot through it. Hermione only gritted her teeth and tried to sit up again. It was only a low grade pain, she told herself.

On the other bed in the room, Jounochi lay, torso swathed in bandages and talking to Honda and Bakura in low tones. They stopped as they noticed her sitting up, and she cautiously waved her uninjured arm at them.

"Oh!" It was Anzu, coming back from the bathroom with a cup of water. "Are you okay? You don't have to sit up."

"I'll be okay, just give me a bit," Hermione rasped.

She let Anzu fuss for a moment, and prop her up against the headboard. It took all the weight off her arm, which she was grateful for. Offering the cup to her, Anzu sat gingerly on the edge of the bed.

Hermione took one long sip, almost coughing when it hit her dry throat. After another smaller sip, she asked, "What happened? Is Kaiba's brother okay?"

Anzu looked down and that was all the answer that Hermione needed.

"I see."

"We think he is. We really couldn't get to him. We heard him, yelling in the other room, but couldn't get in. That creature, well, it was playing with us."

Jounochi swore and said, "Like a cat with a dead mouse. Even when Yuugi and Kaiba --which I'm still trying to wrap my mind around-- summoned their monsters, it wasn't enough. What the hell was that thing?"

"A Rakshasa," Hermione said, and set the empty cup down. "A being from India. They rule there."

"I thought they had a prime minster or something," Honda interrupted.

"The magical side of things, I'm guessing?" Bakura said slowly.

Hermione nodded. "I'll admit that I've never really looked it up, most of our history class focuses on Goblin rebellions during the Renaissance."

"Goblin rebellions?" Bakura asked.

"Never mind that, what the hell are these things?" Jounochi asked.

Hermione licked her lips again. She'd only read about them from the British prospective and heard a few horror stories from Parvati Patil about them, but...

"More water?" Anzu asked.

"Please," Hermione said, and she tried to figure out what to say.

Anzu came back a moment later, and Hermione downed most of the water before she spoke.

"I know they appear in Hindu and Buddhist mythology and most of that is rooted in truth."

Bakura's head came up, and his eyes narrowed, but despite his superficial resemblance, Hermione felt that it was still the second, gentler Bakura. "Do you mean...?"

Hermione nodded. "Probably. They are shape-changers, master illusionists... and man-eaters."

There was a slight gasp, and Hermione saw Anzu looking at her arm with new horror. Hermione tried to smile at her, but failed. So, she continued to speak.

"One of the things that didn't make it into muggle mythology--" Hermione found her wand on the table beside her, and held it tightly, even though it felt like a simple wooden stick. "--is that Rakshasa eat magic as well."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO.

AN:

Yes, a non-canon villain. For now, at least.

Rakshasa are figures in Hindu and some Buddhist mythology and there are depictions of them in countries other than India as well. If you're really curious about them, look them up on wikipedia or google them (try to ignore the D&D stuff). I'm of course taking some artistic license.

And Yuugi-tachi still have several questions...

Anyways, thank Wings of Fate for a quick beta job on this and for putting up with me taunting her with word counts. Any mistakes you see here are mine and things that I might have changed at the last moment. I'll admit that my proofreading skills are terrible when I'm writing this quickly.

I don't think next update will be as soon, but I'm hoping for another this week.


End file.
